Nymphatic Dreams
by Queriusole
Summary: Remus Lupin discovers that dreams sometimes do come true when the source is Nymphadora Tonks.Warning: Rated M for Sexual Content. Complete: Ch 5 Remus considers his options with Tonks and finds a devestating solution.
1. Touch

Summary: Remus Lupin discovers that dreams sometimes do come true when the source is Nymphadora Tonks.

Warning: Rated M for Sexual Content. These are scenes from Nymph vs Wolf, but with embellished details of their sexual encounters. Don't read this for character development..

Disclaimer: Lupin and Tonks belong to JKR. I'm just embellishing their story.

**NYMPHATIC DREAMS**

**Wounded Hearts**

_Tonks' Flat_

I have just come back from a mission only to receive the grim news that I am to undergo screening for silver poisoning. Although I have volunteered to have the silver knives cutting my body, I come to see Nymphadora Tonks because I need some light in this dark moment.

State sanctioned torture I can deal with, but not this. I understand Tonks being out on a date; she's young; she should find a nice man. But to discover that the dim-witted git, Blakesley, had kissed my Tonks! The thought makes my heart tighten, but then my attention goes back to her.

Her eyes are sparkling as she insists, "My virtue was never in danger! And it wasn't as if I could have dodged it. I mean he--he--did this."

She puts one hand at the back of my head while her other is pressing against my cheek. I can't move; I don't want to move.

_Ow_. Damn, I should have moved! How could she miss my lips, but clip my nose perfectly? Wait. Did she get flustered when she realized she was about to kiss a werewolf? Surely she's not new at this, too?

She's beet red and covering her face in embarrassment. "I am so hopeless."

She wasn't even thinking about my lycanthropy. She is as naive as I am, but hopeless? I can't let her think that! She's a perfectly feminine woman and it's my fault that I didn't meet her kiss.

"No, you're not hopeless, Nymphadora. I'm the one who's the novice."

"What?" Her hands fall away from her face and the question is echoed in her eyes. Doesn't she realize she's dealing with someone equally inept at romantic moves?

But it's not as if I don't know what to do. It's not as if we haven't shared a multitude of kisses in my dreams, my fantasies. I cup her face and tell myself I should stop, that this is foolish, that it's the wolf in me coming out so close to the full moon. But a wolf wouldn't feel this urgent need to kiss the human woman, so I know better than to blame him. I, Remus, the man, want to kiss Tonks and this would be true whether or not I was cursed.

I tilt my head and lean forward knowing that I will find her lips and feel as if I'm lost in one of my dreams. I'll just brush her lips with my own, that's all; just an innocent kiss between friends. But her lips are warm, soft, moist and she is not passive. No, her lips part and trace my own while her body is pressing against mine. I feel the bodice of her dress graze against my chest as my tongue darts out to taste her, to trace the smooth contours of that delicious mouth.

This is our first kiss--and I realize it will have to be our last. My pleasure is not the issue here; her future is more important. Will she be disgusted that a werewolf is kissing her, contaminating her? I know the Curse requires a bite at full moon, but surely she has that fear in the back of her mind? I am a monster, I tell myself, a monster who has no business kissing this beautiful nymph outside of the protection of a dream.

I manage to control myself and we pull away breathless. I can't look at her and I hear my voice shaking when I say, "I hope I've proved my point."

"I didn't expect it to feel so, so--wicked!." From the corner of my eye I can see that's she's touching her lips in wonder instead of rubbing them in disgust.

I can only shake my head. "I didn't expect any of this."

Why isn't she hexing me? Why isn't she rejecting me? I need to leave before she realizes what I've done, but then I feel her hand on my arm.

"Remus, what's wrong with this? I thought, I mean, I know I'm not a Fleur, but--"

I can't leave and my heart seems to stop when I realize that instead of reviling me, she thinks she's the problem. I shake my head because she's wrong. My hands are clasped in front of me just to keep myself from touching her again. Have I become such a lecher in my old age? I search for the logic that had deserted me and say the first thing that comes to mind.

"I'm too old for this."

"Remus, I've seen enough of the boy in you to know you haven't lost him yet."

She puts her hands around the back of my neck and again I am completely still. She doesn't think I'm some old lecher taking advantage of an innocent witch? And I realize my mistake in letting this friendship grow between us. She has seen through my guise of the Professor; she taps into the Marauder as easily as my mates at Hogwarts ever did.

I know I should fling her arms away, but but I don't want to hurt her. I look up, I open my mouth to try to speak, but instead, she just leans forward and kisses me, perfectly on target. I hesitate for a moment, but then the sensations of her mouth take over. We might be novices at this kissing, but I can't imagine gaining more pleasure if I'd been kissed by Aprhodite herself.

But I cannot encourage this, so I pull away. I need to convince her that I am not worth her interest. The lust I feel for her cannot become more important than her friendship. I don't want to lose her because she'll discover what a poor candidate I am for a lover, a husband. Poor. There's a pervasive deficit. Surely she has too much pride to get involved with an indigent scholar?

"I'm too poor, Nymphadora. I don't even have a job except for the work with the Order."

But she doesn't draw away. Instead she puts her cheek against mine and whispers, "My heart isn't for sale, Remus, but I'd give it to you freely."

Again I think I'm lost in one of my dreams because she seals the promise of her words with another kiss. Now my heart is soaring at the thought that she would offer me her heart. This luscious body against mine is not just to assuage sexual curiosity, but an offer that springs from the very heart of her feelings.

I am drowning in the kiss this time and my body is pressing her back against the sofa. Nymphadora Tonks is mine? My lips follow the line of her throat and she moans as I taste her skin. Smooth, warm skin, unfettered by scars. I want to touch her so my right hand moves up her body and she squirms under me, leaving one thigh captured between her legs. I can feel her warmth against me even through our clothing.

I can only stop kissing her when she begins her own assault on my throat. Merlin! I never realized how sensitive--My hand clenches and her moan makes me realize that it's at the bodice of her dress. I pull the strap of her dress down and my mouth falls to skim along the top of her breasts. Perfectly proportioned, soft, yet firm. My cheek is lying against her and I feel her hands caressing the back of my neck. None of her actions speak of rejection, only invitation.

My hand now moves down her body again and I kiss her mouth even as my fingers slip under the skirt of her dress. I have an urgent need to caress the soft thigh under the garment and she bends her knee to facilitate that caress so that my fingers can skim along the expanse of her thigh. Our bodies are pressing against each other, but the clothing prevents the contact of our desire.

I feel her tugging my shirt out and soon her hand is brushing against my back. I become sensitized to her caresses even through the scars. Her fingers then glide along the waistband of my trousers and she finds the one place across my belly that is without scars. The caress inflames me quickly and the urgent lust practically consumes me.

It would be so easy to make her my woman, but I have to make a decision between what is right and what is easy. I would be using Tonks to serve my own pleasure, as a salve for my fear of what the silver screening will bring. And if I survive, I cannot expect her to live with my curse.

The thought douses me as effectively as cold water. I become still and just bury my face in her hair to breathe in her scent one last time. I need to walk away, but the memory of her unique fragrance I would carry with me, perhaps to my very grave.

But what do I leave her with? Regret? Relief? Rage? Yes, anger directed against me. That would be best.

"No, we can't do this. There's too much danger." I move my body away from hers.

I sit up and rake a hand through my hair while I pull myself together.

She watches me in confusion. "Danger? Remus, what exactly do you think I do for a living? I'm an Auror, for Merlin's sake."

"And I'm a werewolf; I'm cursed and I have no intention of dragging you into this with me."

"But I don't care--"

"Well, I do." I grab my jacket and call myself a coward for running away, but this is best for her. I walk to the door and insist, "And since I am older, I need to protect you."

"I don't need your protection." She's standing with her fists clenched.

Good, I've gotten her angry with me. And I know I need to leave with a cutting remark. I can't face her, so I keep my back turned to her. I use that scathing tone that I know will hurt her.

"No, what you need to do is grow up, Nymphadora, and learn the difference between lust and love."

I disapparate as soon as I close the door, but I can't go to my room at Grimmauld Place yet. I deliberately hurt Tonks. I wanted her to think I lost my head in a moment of lust, but the truth is that no other woman has consumed my thoughts the way she has. I walk for a long time knowing that if I do fall asleep, I will only dream of her.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Two days later I have survived the silver screening. I'm lying in bed and in my arms I feel as if I hold the warm body of a woman. I take a deep breath and the scent confirms it is Nymphadora Tonks. My eyes flutter open and I see the familiar pink hair. Light is filling the room, but I know this must be one of my nymphatic dreams. Tonks is ever with me then.

I squeeze her tightly and bury my head in those soft, pink locks. My lips trace the outline of her earlobe. Not very erotic, but then my dreams of Tonks aren't always lust-filled moments. This quiet comfort sooths me, then I feel her body turn around and her eyes stare into mine.

My hand touches her chin and I lean forward to kiss her softly as I always do in my dreams. A little moan escapes her throat just as a low moan of pain escapes from me.

Pain? I feel like a pincushion! I pull back with a wince as I realize, "This isn't a dream, is it?"

She sighs. "No, it's all real. Where does it hurt?"

She's sitting up and unbuttoning the shirt of the pajamas I wear, but now I'm sufficiently lucid to realize this is no dream. I can't let her see all the scars; she'll be disgusted! My hand goes out automatically to stop her and I say, "Don't."

"Remus, it's a bit too late for modesty. I've seen you; I gave you all those new scars."

Right, she wielded the knife during the silver sceening. And now her voice is breaking and I realize the price she paid to have raised her hand against me. I now understand that each slice of the knife made her own heart bleed. "But I hurt you a lot worse."

She tries to fight the tears, but has reached her limit. No, she's not just my brave comrade nor is she just a body I yearn to touch. The beauty of her soul transcends the physical traits and makes me feel complete. No wonder Sirius called me a fool! I've fallen in love Nymphadora Tonks and that's the most foolish thing I could have done.

I hold her and stroke her hair to comfort her. I wish I hadn't brought her tears. I wish I could make her smile and give her joy, but all I can do is say, "I'm sorry, Nymphadora."

"Quit apologizing." She swats my shoulder then moans, "Oh, no, now I'm hurting you again."

"Tonks, don't fret, it's all right." I wrap my arms around her and just rock her for a moment. The movement offered no pain this time, just warmth. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Well, I have a few ideas, but you seem to think you're all wrong for me."

"And I am, Tonks." But if I'm insisting I'm so wrong for her, why do my arms tighten around her? Because in truth, I never want to let her go. .

"Prove it then," she challenges as she pulls back to look into my eyes. "Go out with me and prove it."

"We can't go out." My defenses come up automatically.

"Then you can't prove that you're the wrong man for me, can you?" Tonks sits up in bed and I can see by the gleam in her eye that she's ready to argue.

"I--I," What do I say? I start with the obvious, but she argues against each point. Finally I come up with the one solution that is guaranteed to take her away from me. "You have to promise me you'll have a comparison."

Three dates, we agree, Tonks must go on three dates while I'm away on mission before I'll take her to my home at Wolf Rock lighthouse for our first date. We shake hands on the bargain, but then she snuggles against me again so we can get more rest. I store the feeling in my heart because I expect I will never be able to hold her closely again.

- - - - - - - - - - -

**The Dating Game**

_Wolf Rock_

I did my best to ruin our first date, but somehow my lovely Auror has dodged all of my efforts. She was doused with the cold ocean spray on the skiff that brought us to the lighthouse, but rather than getting mad, she got out of her wet clothes and donned an old gray sweater. But does she look drab? No, the cashmere clings softly to her body and hugs the swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips, and as it comes to her knees, I can see the trim limbs extending beneath. The long socks are a perfect complement to her outfit with their rainbow pattern.

I return to the parlor to find her perched on the stool by the window with one eye against the spyglass. Her foot is tapping to the tune on the wireless and the creamy inner thigh of one leg is exposed and I am mesmerized. I remember how that smooth skin feels and am tempted by the delights that would await my exploration. But I shake off this innocent seduction determined to succeed in ruining this date.

But Tonks just leans against me as we update the starlogs. I try another boring lecture on the stars, but she just wiggles to adjust her back against me before finding the stars I indicate with ease, even the constellation Lupus.

She finds it faster than I can, so I move in close to take a look. "Right, there it is. Nymphadora, I think you have a gift for this."

"What do I get as a reward?"

Her bright tone makes me suspicious. We're practically cheek to cheek and her light perfume wafts toward me. She kisses me lightly, just enough to tantalize my appetite for her and I have to prevent my own pursuit of her lips.

"I think I'll do another one," she says.

A kiss or a star? Either way, there's an air of confidence about her now. "You're getting a bit cocky, aren't you?"

"If I find the next constellation within ten seconds, do I get another kiss?" she taunts.

And so another strategy to ruin the date seems to have fallen by the wayside. How did she turn the tables on me? I know I should be refuse the challenge, but then it's unlikely she'll get lucky twice.

"Right, then how about finding this one?" I point to the Chameleon, a difficult constellation to find.

She sets her eye immediately to the spyglass and I can't help but taunt her by creating a countdown of ten that shimmers in front of us. I watch the decrements and my heart starts racing, but from fear that she will win or lose, I'm uncertain.

Just at ten, she squeals, "I found it!"

I move forward to confirm the sighting, but when I move back, she's smiling at me. Her demand is simple. "Pay up."

A sigh escapes me, but it is more from relief at finally being able to kiss her as I desire. I bend to take her mouth and she meets me enthusiastically. The cashmere is soft against my hands as they rub against her back. She crooks one leg to trap me against her and my hand moves down to caress the exposed skin of her thigh. I let my fingers wander along and travel a path up to her waist until I finally cup her breast. She moans softly against me and I feel her hand skimming along my ribs, but stopping at the top of my waistband.

I end the kiss and just touch my forehead to hers. I admit that I tried to sabotage our date, but nothing shakes her resolve.

"Remus, I went through a lot just to get this one date from you. I endured a giggolo, a joker and a lunatic who wanted a brood mare. Don't you think I should be given some time to convince you that we can have something more than just friendship?"

"It isn't that simple."

"Then just tell me that you can't love me. Tell me that and I'll understand." Her gaze stays on mine, so I turn my head thinking I can speak a lie, but she touches my chin and traps my eyes with the questioning look in her own.

"I can't."

"You can't what?"

I swallow and try again. "I can't-- no, I can't say it."

As I finally turn my back on her, she says, "Until you do, then I'll live on the hope that you can love me if you'd only let yourself."

I feel her arms embrace me and she leans into my back.

"Three dates, Remus, just give me three dates to prove to you that we could make this work. If you're right, then I'll find out for myself why it's so wrong to be with you."

"But if you're not convinced and I still think it's a bad idea?"

"I'm not going to make myself a nuisance to you, Remus. We have a war to fight."

"All right, three dates in public."

The lightning flashes as we shake hands and the wind blows in the storms that had threatened earlier. I glance out the window and suggest waiting before taking her home. She ups the ante by insisting on spending the night at the lighthouse. I think she's decided to kick me out of my own bed, but no. It appears that as payback for drenching her with the sea, I am to be used as a bed warmer.

"I'm recovering from the cold ocean spray. Feel me shiver?"

She stops suddenly as she's leading me down the endless stairs. Indeed, I can feel the shiver running up her spine as my hands move up her arms and stop at her shoulders. She's leaning back and her hands brush against the front of my trousers. It's a guileless maneuver because she's as inexperienced as I am, but my body responds to the innocent seduction.

I realize we're actually at my bedroom. My heart is racing at the possibilities of what lies behind the door. It would be a mistake to let lust lead me astray with Tonks. "Do you really think this is a good idea?"

Her voice takes on a challenging tone as she turns around to confront me. "Do you really think I'm so easy that I'd let you take certain liberties on a first date?"

She's right. I wouldn't want to cheat her of her virginity for the sake of slating my lust when I can't offer her a future. Still, there is much that can be explored in a physical relationship and the ache in my body is rising.

"I think there's a number of liberties you'd let me take." A Marauder doesn't walk away from a challenge, so I lean into her and have her backed against the door. I hear her catch her breath as my body presses against hers, her legs part as my own inserts itself against her desire. My only thought is to get as close as possible, but when I lean in to kiss her, the door moves open.

_Eek! Oof!_

I manage to break her fall, but now I have a giggling bundle of Tonks laying on top of me. What a delicious feeling this is. My hand sweeps up and down her back as I just hold her for a moment. "What am I going to do with you?"

"You're going to take certain liberties but not cross the line because we're both not made like that." She props up to look at me with twinkling eyes, but then her voice becomes serious. "I'm the one who's likely to muck this up, Remus. Remember my sign: Mortal Peril? Just give me enough rope and I'll hang myself."

Or catch a werewolf, I think as I rake a hand through her pink, spiky hair. It feels good not to fight the strong emotions that draw me to this woman. My smile belies my grumbled words, "Let's get some sleep, then. We'll have to get up early to get you back in time for work."

"You know, I think I'm quite comfy here," she says as she drops her head to nuzzle my neck.

She doesn't kiss me, but I feel her warm breath against my throat as my hands trail down her back. The curve of her hips is inviting and she squirms against me as my fingers rub her. What are the limits of my liberties, I wonder.

I cup her hips and slide her body up mine so that I can kiss her mouth. I lose myself in her enthusiasm for my kiss, but before I roll her over to press her against the floor, I realize how uncomfortable that would be. And how dangerous.

So I rise and haul her over my shoulder and she's giggling again, telling me to put her down, but when I go to plop her on the bed, she maneuvers to wrap her legs around me. The momentum carries us to the bed and I slide up automatically to feel the pressure of her warmth against my need. Merlin, this feels so good!

I begin kissing her neck and my fingers move up to tease her breasts. I lose sense of time but manage to halt my movements. I capture her wandering hands and look into her eyes. She smiles as she scoots out from under me.

"Aren't you going to offer me a shirt or something to sleep in?"

Well, I can't expect her to sleep nude--and why did I have to generate that image? I shake my head and use the opportunity to walk to my bureau. As I pull out a drawer, I feel her thrusting her head under my arm to peek at my rather drab and limited selection.

"This'll do," she says as she grabs a red pajama set. She tosses the bottoms at me while she runs into the bathroom with the top and calls in a sing-song voice, "I'll be just a minute."

I stare at the pajama bottoms as I consider whether to wear them or get a different set. Before I know it, she's running out of the loo and taking a running leap to dive into bed. I can see her wriggling under the covers as she calls, "Hurry up, Remus, I'm still cold."

Her bright eyes are peering up at me, so just to establish that I am the lord of my domain, I grab another set of pajamas and go to the loo. I hear her taunt me. "You'll pay for your defiance, Professor!"

Her back is turned toward me when I come to bed, so I spoon her body with mine and feel a wonderful contentment at this simple touch. My hand brushes across her waist and I realize a button is missing right at her belly. Of course, there's only one thing to do.

I tickle her and she jumps against me in delicious pressure. In fact her continued squirming as I continue my attack is stimulating. I relent when she turns to snuggle against my chest, so I accommodate this. I feel her yawn against me.

"Remus?" Her voice seems very sleepy as she begins. "Remember that payback?"

As she says this, she bends her leg so that the crook of her knee is lying on top of my arousal. My breath catches and she rubs against me. Oh, bloody hell, she's won! That was my last coherent thought for a long time.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

I told him he had restricted liberties, but I trust my Marauder to want to test the limits. I know that I am curious about his body and given the way he responds to me, I know he has discoveries he wants to make.

But so do I. I don't feel like such an inept woman with him and that makes me bolder than I would be with any other man. I move my thigh against his arousal just to test his response and it's--amazing. His desire clearly grows and I want to discover this for myself. He brings a hand to push my thigh away, so I snake my hand under his arm and touch him through the cloth of the pajamas and the boxers he wears.

The layers offer some sense of limits, but I let my hand explore the length I feel. I don't want him to push me away, so I kiss his lips. The hungry way his mouth catches mine encourages me. Do I have power over Remus Lupin? Can I make him lose control?

My hand begins to stroke as my lips wander to his slender neck and my pelvis moves to press against his hip. Oh, this feels wicked and right at the same time! I feel his hand fluttering at my upper arm, again to try to halt my movements, but I turn a bit and as soon as his fingers graze my nipples, I feel him follow through to caress me in earnest.

My fumbling movements are inexperienced, but then I feel his other hand on top of mine. Instead of plying away my fingers, he just covers mine and introduces me to a familiar rhythm. I quickly learn what he wants and oblige.

And then I feel his hand slipping under the pajama shirt. His caresses are in perfect time as he follows the contours of my body covered by the nickers. We are lost in these moments of exploration when he clutches at my hip suddenly and I know I've succeeded in giving him release.

The power of reducing this erudite man into inarticulate grunts is quite exhilarating. I increase the pressure against him as his body is thrusting to spend his desire. He takes one long, deep breath, then lays back, just holding me closely to him as his breath becomes regular again.

His embrace is followed by a quick kiss, a whispered thank you, and I can see a reflection of my smile in his own face before I snuggle into him. I think he's fallen asleep, so I swallow my disappointment, but then I feel his hand caress my breast with the lightest touch. The moan escapes me only to be silenced when he kisses my mouth.

I feel his fingers slide under my shirt and begin to trail down my belly. I catch my breath because I know what I want him to do, although I would never ask. But he can read my body so well because the next instant I feel him doing a slow, circular glide that makes me moan in pleasure.

He kisses my neck and I hear him whisper, "Show me."

I smile as he continues to nibble on my throat while I bring my hand over his to reveal what I want, just as he did for me.

His other hand unfastens the top button of the shirt I stole from him. My hands move up to stroke his hair as he nuzzles against my breasts. My body is barely exposed at all, but the sensations he's creating with his ministrations make me realize that he doesn't need to have me naked to reduce me to a puddle of desire.

I've never let any other man touch me like this. The pressure changes to his knuckles as he takes charge of the rhythm that's driving me over the edge. The climax explodes and I realize my back has arched off the bed and it happens again and again and... I put my hand on his to stop this exquisite torture.

"You are so beautiful, Nymphadora," he whispers as he holds me.

Damn, he's good--or I'm easy--or maybe we're both desperate and sexually frustrated. Or maybe, just maybe, we're a perfect match.

_End Chapter 1_

Author Notes:

Hopefully you still felt emotionally connected to the characters. I've pulled out these scenes because I want the Nymph vs Wolf story accessible to most teenaged readers.

Not much in the way of erotica, I suppose, but there will be other chapters.

Thanks for reading. I don't expect reviews as these are just missing scenes, but if you're a new reader, then Nymph vs Wolf has the rest of the story.


	2. Cover

Summary: Although Tonks and Remus are working through their little hang-ups, Remus is certain his first public date with Tonks will be their last.

**NYMPHATIC DREAMS**

**_Nymph vs Wolf: Masque of the Wol_f**

_Tonks' Flat_

It has been some weeks since we made our bargain of three public dates, but we've avoided discussing their details. Instead we divert our attention by playing chess. Of course, I've never quite had an opponent like Tonks.

I'm trying to stay fully absorbed in the game but my opponent leans her feminine body into me. I can feel the swell of her breast pressing against my shoulder just before I feel her tongue flick out to lick my ear lobe. I point my finger at the board to move my chess piece, but then her teeth begin teasing me.

She nibbles my ear, keeps her warm body plastered against me, all the while innocently asserting she's just trying to get a better view of the game. Of course I make a horrible move, but she just snuggles against me, this time rubbing her cheek on my arm and I can swear I feel her smirking.

I can do this, I tell myself. I can win this game if I just stay focused on the chest--I mean, chess board. I manage to execute a strategic move, more by accident than will power, but it's enough to make her lean forward to study the board.

I think turnaround is fair play, so I begin gently stroking the exposed nape of her neck with my fingertips. But then I decide that if she can nibble on me, I should most definitely nibble on her. Right about--there!

I let her accusation against me fall away for I wasn't trying to distract her; I fully succeeded. And just to up the ante, my hand skims under her shirt across the smooth expanse of her back and unsnaps her bra.

"Your testing the limits of the liberties you're allowed." Her words admonish me, but the way she turns her neck to expose more skin to me fails to convince me of her rancor.

"Am I?" I mumble before I begin to assault her neck.

"Mmm hm."

I take that as encouragement and my hands slip under her shirt to cup her breasts properly. The taste of her skin, the firm body under my hands; it's even better than my dreams.

She turns around and reminds me, "Aren't you violating the No Disrobing rule?"

Oh yes, that. Well, of course I don't want to be naked in her sight; she'd be disgusted by the scars. I insist on the rule to avoid that, but her body is nothing to be ashamed of. So, I use a bit of wandless magic to discard the bra without pulling off her shirt. It should show up somewhere in her bedroom. Wouldn't want her pet were-rabbit hopping off with it.

"I think the rule needs to be amended," I say as I pull her onto my lap. I barely register that Wimples, her vorpal bunny, is now harassing the chess pieces.

I kiss her lips and as always, she meets me with enthusiasm. The supple body under my hands is too inviting not to explore. Merlin! She's kissing my neck and one of her hands slip under my shirt and flutters across my chest to graze a nipple, then comes back deliberately. This demands payback.

I follow the waistband of her jeans and have no trouble unsnapping it. My hand dives directly onto her and she moans in surprise. We've kept such activity restricted to the bedroom, another rule. Yet I find myself giving into a the strong compulsion. I want to reduce my lovely opponent to a woman who can think of nothing but her need. I've learned her body, her preferred rhythm and pressure and the satisfaction of knowing I'm the one driving her mad is invigorating.

The way she's kissing my mouth, exploring me with her tongue, complements the tempo I use on her. But soon she can only drop her head against my shoulder as her breathing quickens. I feel her tense as her release builds, I feel her desire growing under my fingers. I feel the swell of power as the climax wrings through her and I can literally hear an explosion--

Explosion? My eyes flutter open and turn to the chess board just as I feel Tonks take a deep breath. I'm slowly repositioning my hand as we notice the were-rabbit has provoked the black queen to explode. I can see the ears of the vorpal bunny wiggling in satisfaction as they protrude from the top hat he uses as a nest.

"Game over," sighs Tonks, but then she nestles against my chest rather than rising. She squirms against my lap and I know she can feel the unspent arousal.

I can hear the smile in her voice as she asks, "Do you have to go?"

But I don't nudge her off of me and it's not just because I want my turn at release. I want to be with her, just me and Nymphadora, but it's ill advised that I give into this. I let my hands trail lazy strokes through her hair. "I should."

"Stay." Her voice is quiet.

"I--"

"Stay," she whispers as her lips move over mine for a kiss. Her voice is shy and uncertain as she adds, "I'm not trying to tease you or trap you, Remus, it's just that I don't want you to go."

I twine my fingers in her hair at the nape of her neck and smile. "I shouldn't encourage this. Every time I kiss you I think I've fallen into a miracle."

"I didn't know I was such a divine kisser," she quips with a smile, but the she gently tugs at my left hand and kisses the palm. "I've never let a man this close to me before."

I don't understand her attraction to me, although I can't deny its obvious presence. Why have I been deemed worthy of this attention? "And why do you let me touch you?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

The answer is simple and easily escapes. "Because I'm ugly."

Tonks stiffens at the words and frowns now, too. She lightly traces the familiar pattern left by the scars on my face. "What do you mean? Just because you're a lycanthrope--"

"No, it's not the curse or the scars. I'm not, I mean I've never been..."

I can't quite find the words to explain. It's not the lycanthropy; I'm just not one blessed with gorgeous features. "I'm just ugly."

I can't find any other word for it, so I just start talking about why I know that I'm not attractive. "At Hogwarts I'd look in the mirror and then look at Sirius or James. They didn't have a long nose or a high forehead--"

"Your features suit your face; you'd look rather silly with a little button nose," she says as hers transforms into one, then her forehead slopes and I have to chuckle when she finishes saying, "or had a sloping forehead."

I'm feeling a bit relieved as she recovers her features, but I know of one flaw that Tonks often brings to my attention. "The rest of me is nothing but long, gangly limbs."

She grabs my ears and tugs. "You are not ugly! Merlin, how could you--"

"You're always saying I'm too bloody tall," I remind her as I put my hands on her wrists, but she's already turned the tug into a series of caresses at the nape of my neck.

"That was because I was getting too distracted by your long legs and thighs and--" Tonks stops just as her face is flushing a lovely pink.

I quirk my eyebrow at her. Indeed, she was checking me out all this time? Even on our first day of house cleaning duties at Grimmauld Place?

She squeezes my hand as she insists, "I can't match your height unless I'm two steps above you, so of course I'd complain.".

"And the lonely bed comment?" Ah, yes, after our first day of working together, she managed to make me feel like the biggest loser in the world with that one remark.

"I was angry because I thought that you thought that I was--too ugly." Her voice drops off. "Mum was always telling me I should make my nose less perky or sculpt my eyebrows or have fuller lips."

And again I'm surprised by how much we have in common underneath it all. I know she doesn't consider herself feminine, but to think of herself as ugly? How ridiculous--but then, that's the very thing she's been trying to tell me.

I trace her cheek and turn her face back to me. "You shouldn't listen to your mum; she did name you Nymphadora after all. I find you quite lovely."

She punches my shoulder as a sign she's regained her usual spunk. "And I never thought you were ugly! You shouldn't have been comparing yourself to the Sex God of Gryffindor, you git."

Sirius the Sex God? The label makes me laugh and I pull her to me. The way she can bring light into my life is so precious, but I have to tease her. "I'm telling Sirius that one."

"Then do it in the morning," she murmurs. "Stay."

"Yes." The word comes out in a sigh. I am so tired of my lonely bed and she asks so little of me.

So I let her lead me to her bedroom. She runs to the loo to change and attend to her toilet, so I slip out of the Oxford shirt and trousers I wear. As much as I want to feel her nude body against mine, I am still too sensitive about my scarred body. I pull out one of the t-shirts I recognize she had kept from her visit at the light house. I tug it over and realize I'm smiling at her theft. It's the little actions like this that underscore the fact she wants to be with me.

Tonks comes out of the loo having changed into those pajama pants with the brooms all over them, but wears a tank top. I'm lying on the bed with my hand crossed under my head and just enjoy the view as she walks in. The top clings nicely to her body, but for some reason I'm mesmerized by the way the light is reflecting off of her shoulders.

She slips under the covers, but before she even gets settled, my lips are on her shoulders. I don't want to bother her; I actually would be quite content to just hold her in my arms. But I have a fundamental problem: I love this woman. Lust can be dealt with in a matter of minutes, but this ache I feel drives me to touch her just to make sure she's real, that this is not just another nymphatic dream.

Her responses are a constant invitation for my caresses, my kisses. I love the taste of her skin and I mark my trail until I find her mouth, only to slip away again to attend to the neglected shoulder. Once again the desire is rising in me and my hands quickly tug at the strap of her top.

This time I won't be satisfied until I've explored her breast with my mouth and I hear her breath hitch when I suckle. I'm pressing against her in earnest now and she hesitates but a moment before shifting her knees.

I moan at the pleasure this brings as I become nestled perfectly between her legs. Then as I give in to the need to move against her, I feel her hands slipping under the boxers to caress my skin. I feel her nails scraping lightly and the sensation is just strong enough to make me feel desired. It isn't a favor or payback; she wants this as badly as I do.

She is so much smaller that I worry for a moment about hurting her, but then her body is moving with mine and suddenly her arching back makes me re-adjust my balance so I don't get tossed off. Ah, the woman and her wicked ways. I can feel myself smiling as the urgent need drives me until I am completely wasted and mind-numbingly relaxed. But the smile lingers on my face as I realize my lovely lady has again found her release as well.

A simple spell takes care of the mess for I can't bear to leave her side now. Actually, I am now without the capacity to move a muscle. I whisper good night and fall asleep with only one sensation invading this cushion of bliss. Nymphadora Tonks rests in my arms.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_Days Later_

_Tonks' Flat_

Circumstances by the name of Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour have contrived to create the first public date between Nymphadora and me. They needed fake dates who understood there would be no potential romance, so I forced Tonks into accepting the 'date' as part of our bargain. Now that the happy couple has left she's trying to argue the point with me.

"Actually, it's ideal. We're seen together in public, but you gain some distance from my stigma." I think this sounds reasonable.

"You are not stigmatized!"

"Open your eyes, Nymphadora, and you'll see how wrong you are. The point is that your reputation is still safe from Scrimgeour's scrutiny given our decoy dates with Fleur and Bill. And we should set up the other two dates now as well. We can't drag this out indefinitely."

Tonks sighs before admitting, "I have some ideas, but it will be a few months between each date."

I can accept that. In fact, it prolongs this lovely fantasy I'm currently living where I can be with Tonks. Still, I'm expecting I'll face the New Year alone again. I just prompt her, "And?"

We agree to attend a wedding in Heidelberg in February and the St. Mungo's Charity ball in May. I bring up my concern about the cost of the tickets the ball, but Tonks provides the solution rather cheerfully.

"Sirius already said he'd buy them for me as a Christmas present." Then she has the good grace to look guilty. "He said anything that helps keeps Gilderoy Lockhart out of the public eye is worth supporting."

"I knew this was a Black conspiracy." But my actions bely my accusation as I pull her into my arms. I would do anything to erase the old pain and I'm glad that Sirius is so devoted to seeing his little cousin happy.

"Sirius is a good friend," admonishes Tonks as she drops a quick kiss on the tip of my nose.

"The best kind," I agree, but I'm miffed that she didn't kiss me properly, so of course, I have to correct this. Ah, I never tire of the taste of her lips and I feel the hunger growing in me--just before her stomach growls.

She pulls back with a delicate blush on her face. "Er, I skipped lunch." She adds a shrug, "It was a busy day." Her stomach growls again and now she's turning pink. "I skipped the market, too. Well, I had enough veggies for Wimples and like I said, busy day."

She looks up at me with innocent eyes while her hands are crossed in a crooked clench in front of her

"Well, you happen to be in luck. Sirius wanted take-away from his favorite fish--"

"Oh, he'll share!" At this point Tonks is jumping on the balls of her feet and clapping her hands.

"You know, you don't look like a dark wizard catcher at this moment," I chide as she shoves her lithe body against mine to push me out the door.

"Don't need to for eating fish 'n' chips!" she sings as she skips ahead of me and takes my hand.

I have to smile at her antics and realize once again why I need her. Nothing is too mundane not to celebrate.

Before I know it, we're back at Grimmauld Place sharing our humble feast with Sirius. The mood is relaxed tonight and we spend the evening exchanging stories about our days at Hogwarts. I watch the two cousins and wonder how different Tonks' life would have been if she had known Sirius as she grew up.

But when Sirius decides it's time to isolate himself again, Tonks just stretches before settling into the crook of my arm as we share the settee in the parlor. I let my cheek rest on the top of her head and wonder what it would be like to have this contact, this comfort, for the rest of my life. We talk about nothing special, but learn so much from each other, before we eventually fall into a comfortable silence. The peaceful mood is one I am reluctant to end, but it is getting late. The word escapes me before I realize I'm saying it aloud.

"Stay."

"I thought you'd never ask," murmurs Tonks before she kisses me deeply. I'm lost in the pleasure before I realize the mistake I've made.

I pull away from her and shake my head. "Wait, you can't. Stay, I mean. Sirius--"

"Knows you're not sleeping on the street when you're out all night," reminded Tonks.

"I know, but--that's different. It's your flat or it's been my house, not Sirius' house. I mean, this is Order headquarters!"

"Yeah? Well, that never stopped Sirius and Emmeline. And it's not as if we'll be doing it on the kitchen table," grumbles Tonks. Then a spark of challenge appears in her eyes. "How about we ask?"

I sit up in alarm. "We can't ask him that. What am I supposed to say? Oi, mate, can your little cousin sleep over with me?"

"That sounds fine," urges Tonks. "And if I'm right and he doesn't object, I get to my pick of your clothing for sleepwear. Bet?"

She grabs my hand in a vigorous handshake, but I'm onto her game. "Is this some ploy to steal another one of my shirts?"

She gives me that innocent look of hers. "Remus! I'm an Auror, duty-bound to protect the citizens of the Wizarding World..."

"You sound like the Auror recruitment campaign," I insert mildly while she carries on about Auror duties.

"...maintaining the highest of personal standards which certainly excludes pilfering comfy, well worn shirts," she ends and flutters her eyelashes.

"So I suppose I've merely lost my shirts to your, er, protective custody?"

"I'm duty bound," she agrees as before taking a deep breath to continues, "How you could think--"

"Aren't you two in bed yet?" Our host pokes his head into the parlor and shakes his head. "I thought I was the only insomniac. Don't stay up on my account; get some sleep. Tonks is a working girl, after all. You can cook us all sausages and eggs for breakfast, Moony. Now, good night."

Sirius walks away with his hands full of tasty morsels for Buckbeak, his midnight companion. I hear Tonks' giggles and pull her into my arms, but have to kiss her before her chuckles cease.

"You heard the man, off to bed," says my lovely lady with a smile.

The dreary atmosphere of number twelve fades to the background when she's present and I realize I would like nothing better than to have the memory of her warm body lying next to mine in that large, but lonely bed that occupies my room. We enter and I immediately go to my bureau to dig out a t-shirt for her to sleep in, but I feel her leaning into me.

Her hand snakes up my back and flicks the collar of my shirt before she whispers, "Protective custody, Remus. I did win the bet--and you're wearing the shirt I want."

My heart begins racing at the thought--and technically I never agreed to the bet. Yes, she knows what I look like unclothed, she's seen all of the scars. Still, I clear my throat and keep my back turned when I insist, "I can't."

I feel her move away from me and relief floods me, so I slump forward and let my hands press against the top of the bureau. My back is turned to her, so I barely register the sound of the springs of the bed as she sits down. But then I hear a muffled grunt and followed by a quick unzippening. What is she--?

I turn around and my throat becomes completely dry. I can literally feel the blood rushing from my head to my groin. A nymph is upon my bed with a completely nude torso as she kicks away the legs of her trousers and sits there in nothing but her rainbow nickers. My voice becomes extremely hoarse as I say, "Nymphadora?"

She looks up at me a bit startled and I realize my voice must have sounded harsh. A flush starts rising and suddenly she's nervously reaching for the shirt still by her side. "I--I thought if I, I--I must look so stupid--"

My lovely nymph is in a panic trying to thrust her arms back into the garment. I finally manage to move forward to stop her from destroying the lovely image of femininity that graces my presence. I grab her shirt and toss it behind me before I lean forward and softly kiss her shoulder.

"You look beautiful, Nymphadora," I whisper as my lips trail up her throat to finally meet her lips.

- - - - -

I sit on the bed and think I've made a big mistake with Remus. I know he feels uncomfortable exposing his body, but I want so badly to feel his skin against mine. So I thought if I disrobed first, but I'm not confident enough, even with Remus. Who do I think I am? Some nymph?

But then he stops me and I realize his harsh tone wasn't intentional. Did he just say beautiful? But he kisses me with such a deep hunger that I let the thought slip away when his hands start skimming all over my body. He grabs my hips to draw me near him and gives a satisfied moan when I wrap my legs around his waist.

His lips travel down my throat as soon as he releases the kiss and I expect him to follow a familiar path, but then he regains control and pulls away, sitting back on his haunches with his hands lying on my thighs. Why isn't he following through?

Because this time, there is no cloth to push aside, nothing to set a limit. Or maybe he just doesn't want me because I'm lopsided or I have a mole in the wrong place or I my bust is just perky instead of pendulous.

I can see his chest heaving as he takes a deep breath. His eyes fall across my body and the expression I see in them is hard to label. There's a flame behind his gaze and a focused attention as if he--desires? My hand moves, but I stop and--Should I? He's completely still, watching. Waiting?

I feel a wicked thrill as I let my hand cup my breast in offering while I put my other hand at the nape of his neck. It takes the lightest push to bring his head to my bosom and I arch into him when his mouth latches onto me. Oh, yes, that warm tingling that comes with the strokes his tongue leaves on my body is delicious!

His lips soon follow the contours, gently grazing my nipples, then tracing a familiar circle. And all I can do is just thread my fingers through his hair because I'm lost to these sensations that run through me to the very core.

I finally manage to regain some control and let my hand slip to those horrid buttons on his shirt that are preventing the close contact I want. Since his attention is completely on me, I sneak several buttons loose. Oh, but it takes some time because the man's kisses are just--A moan escapes me from the way his tongue is teasing me, but my sudden jerk hides the fact that I needed to lift his shirt a bit to get to the last button.

"Sorry," he murmurs into the crook of my neck, before gently nuzzling me for a moment.

I don't dissuade him because I want him distracted. Actually, I'm biting my lip trying not to chuckle at my victory although another teasing flick makes me moan again as his lips trail back down to my breasts.

My hands pull apart the open shirt, then my hand glides up to his jaw to press it lightly upward. It doesn't take any effort to communicate that I want him to kiss my mouth again, although he has to stop along the way to nibble on my throat.

But this time when we kiss I bring him back on top of me and make sure his shirt stays open so that--Yes! That's what I wanted to feel; the heat of his body is directly against mine and I hear that low moan from him. My hands go under his shirt and run across his back and trace his spine as I whisper, "Take the shirt off, Remus."

His entire body shudders and I feel him take a couple of deep breaths. He puts his weight on his arm and just looks down at me. I touch his cheek, then let my hand sweep down to tug the shirt off his shoulder and he lets his arm slip through. I'm fast to tug it off his other arm before he changes his mind and toss my future nightshirt up somewhere toward my pillow. I really don't give a damn where it is.

We're facing each other now and I watch as his eyes rake across me just before his finger lightly traces the curve of my breast, the midline of my torso, then glides over the center of my nickers to trace the tell-tale contours there. His touch sends goose bumps up and down my body and I close my eyes. I let my hands flutter to the waistband of his trousers, but then follow that line of fine hair that trails up to his naval before skimming back down to release his garments.

I hear his soft laugh as I add my kicks to his own to toss off the trousers. Our legs immediately twine around each other and then we lean forward and our necks likewise become nestled. It is such a gentle touch, but the shiver flows through my body at the contact as we lie side by side.

He's kissing me again, caressing my breasts, and my legs are sliding up and down the length of his in response. My hand rubs against his arousal underneath the boxers he wears. I set to a familiar stroke while pressing his hard length against me through the cloth that still covers us. Heat, pressure, rhythm. It's all so simple, really, or at least it's that way with Remus. And--Ah...

I barely have time to recover before he's pressing me back into the mattress and is nestling in that perfect spot against my pelvis. I love the feel of the warm skin above me, so I nibble on any area that comes in reach, being careful to glide my tongue on the smooth skin between the many scars that cross his body.

One hand falls to his narrow waist, then I let my fingers skim over his hips, raking across the fine hair that covers his skin, kneading the curves of his body. A flick of my tongue against his nipple and I realize it was the perfect signal to complement his release.

He's taking deep breaths and just rubbing his head against my breasts as he regains control before he shifts his weight off of me. He props up on one elbow and just looks down at me with that soft expression that makes me feel as much of a prize as Helen of Troy. And although I see his scars, I wonder, how can any man be more beautiful than my Remus?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_Grimball Night_

_Tonks' Flat_

The Grimball could have been worse, but it was disaster enough. It began poorly enough with my having to don the garb of the wolf, although the half masque and jacket are very elegant. Tonks fared no better dressed like a muggle Playboy bunny, except with a sheer skirt over the corset. But the discomfort of our costumes was nothing compared to the icy glares, the turned backs, the insults whispered throughout the night. Even her dance with Lucius Malfoy that ended with giving him a good kick in the rear was the result of her association with 'that beast, the werewolf, Remus Lupin.'

The silent carriage ride has convinced me that Tonks will be better off without me. Her own silence is easy enough to read; she wants nothing more to do with me. She snatches off the silly bunny ears that adorned her head and looks out the window rather than at me.

But my eyes constantly shift in her direction. That figure hugging corset she's still wearing has tested my resolve on the ride home because the sheer overskirt only emphasizes her well-toned legs. Merlin, I just wanted to pull her to me and lose myself in her body to make up for the ill will directed at me all night long, but I cannot give in to my lust tonight. It's obvious that now she understands how just being seen with me is a bad idea.

When we get to her flat, I am surprised to find she thinks she is the problem, that her little 'dance' with Malfoy has convinced me she's too impetuous. I assure her that she's not the problem, and I approach her with regret as I put a hand on her shoulder.

"Silver knives or masques, they're all just part of a never-ending set of gauntlets that I face. You don't want this, Nymphadora. I never should have let this drag out this long. You deserve--"

"Are you thinking that I would just give up on us because of the prejudice I witnessed tonight?" She bats my hand from her shoulder as if I'm burning her. "You have so little faith in me?"

"You're young--"

"And stubborn," she interrupts. She's craning her neck to look up at me, but rather than sadness, she is glaring at me through the tears that threaten her eyes. "If you don't want me then just say it."

"Not want you?" Where does she get these absurd notions? Every man at the Grimball wanted to dance with her, including the ones she's walloped previously. "Nymphadora, do you know what affect that silly but sexy outfit has had on me all night?"

"No." Her voice loses some belligerence. "Other than our dances, you seemed to be avoiding touching me, especially on the carriage ride home."

I am dumbfounded that she is so clueless about how tantalizing she can be. "Tonks, I was avoiding touching you because my impulse control was already strained. I thought you were ready to dissolve this relationship on the ride here."

She cautiously reaches for my hand. "You promised me three dates, Remus. Three dates, no less. Three dates to show you that, that I lo--."

"Don't say it," I plead as I finally see that look in her eyes, the warm expression of her soul. I can't bear to see such love shining from her eyes. No, I need to walk away. But instead I draw her into my embrace so that her gaze doesn't burn into my soul and draw out the sentiment I have no right to reveal.

I whisper my plea, "Don't say words that I won't be able to return."

"You don't want me to say I love you?"

Love? Love. Yes, it sounds so perfectly true, and my heart swells as the the word echoes through my mind: love. This is the most wonderful disaster I have ever been blessed with. How do I answer her question without lying, but without revealing how I feel?

I murmur, "I don't want you to waste your life with the likes of me."

I feel her take a deep breath, but all she says is, "Two more dates, Remus. You promised; it's not a lifetime."

I am weak and I know I can't walk away. Two more dates serve as a time limit for her love. Two more dates that will take months to complete. Whenever she is in my arms, it feels so right and I can't deny that I've enjoyed discovering the wonders of her body. "Two more dates."

We stand holding each other and our bodies sway to some melody that haunts both of our minds. I turn on the wireless and for the first time, we dance without a single stumble. I praise her success, but of course she has to turn this into another game.

"Then as my reward I think you should," here Tonks stops and looks upward as if considering her options, "stay."

"I--"

She stops me with a kiss. "Stay."

I shouldn't respond to her kiss. I should just walk away from Nymphadora Tonks, the woman I love, but instead my arms wrap around her waist. The hunger that's been dogging me all night flares up and I give in to the desire to kiss her shoulders, her neck. My lips graze the top of her bosom as my fingers ascend to undo her zipper on the side of the corset. I think I'm close to victory, but the damn corset stays up as if--

"Tonks, did you put an adhesion spell on this thing?"

"Huh?" She blinks a few times as if it takes effort to respond to my query, but then she admits, "As a matter of fact, I did."

"No matter," I say as I cast a nonverbal counterspell and the bosom in question is liberated. I'm kissing the skin that had been bound so tightly by that contraption and her moan of pleasure assures me that my attention is necessary.

"Damn, you're good," she sighs, "But you need to lose the jacket."

She's tugging the lapel of my suitcoat and I have no problem shrugging out of it. Then she pulls my head down for a kiss, but soon I sweep her off her feet to carry her away in my arms.

Yes, I think I need to get to her bedroom post haste, and I manage to get us onto the bed although we fall in a pile onto it as I stumble forward. We're both laughing now, especially when I look back and discover I've tripped over some carcass of a radish that her pet were-rabbit has been nibbling.

Enough distractions, but she kisses me so deeply and I feel her fingers pulling on the waistband of my trousers and barely register she's already managed to unbutton my shirt. Her dexterity impresses me so much that I forget to object about disrobing at all as my clothes are tossed aside by a lovely hand. I only want one thing now: to feel her skin next to mine.

I am determined to pry her loose from that contraption she's wearing, so I'm tugging on the garment in earnest, but my lovely lady is struck by a fit of giggles. Everywhere I touch her seems to be ticklish. I'm not sure how I manage to finally get the corset and overskirt off, but I do.

And what do I find lying before me? The perfectly nude form of my nymph. Wait. She was completely naked--she was at the ball with nothing on but--oh, yes, it was a corset, but--Damn! I am so glad I didn't know this during the Grimball.

She's rolled onto her side with her back turned toward me to get control of her giggles now, so she has to twist her neck to look at me. And all I can do for a moment is trace those feminine contours with my hand; she is perfect. I go to nuzzle the nape of her neck, but then have to follow the dip of her spine with my lips. I can't seem to stop and my lips follow her hips.

I trail kisses across her curves and up to her hipbones, all the while becoming intoxicated by her scent. I stop for a moment and rest my head on her belly, feeling her fingers threading through my hair. I want her so badly and my hand moves to tease her. Her hips move to press against my fingers and I kiss her in gratitude for her quick response to me.

But my yearning increases and my hand glides lower. I shouldn't. I really need to stop, but then I feel Tonks maneuver, shifting to allow the access I want and--

The sharp hiss of her breath makes me stop and pull my hand away from her. Damn! I'm nothing but some brute to force into her like this, but then she touches my hand and brings it back to her.

"It's just different," she whispers. "Just new."

I release my breath in relief because I want so badly to explore her. But I learn from my mistakes and this time take the edge off my passion as I kiss her mouth. Her response is always so warm and welcoming. There is no need to rush and fumble, so I take my time and I can't believe how easily my fingers glide. I focus my attention entirely on seeing to her pleasure and soon have my reward. She's giving that low moan I love to hear, arching her back, and this time I can feel how her body responds around me.

I capture her mouth for a kiss and move my hand to caress her breast. It gives me time to fight the urge to take her now, knowing that she would be ready for me. It's not time; it's not right for me to truly become her lover. It never will be right to take her. But when she regains her senses, she pulls away from me and runs her finger along the waistband of my boxers and tugs it down so she can stroke me.

"I just want you touching, not, not--" She can't finish, so she turns her head.

I lose no time pulling the damn cloth down to release me. Skin to skin contact, but not penetration. I can do this, I want so badly to press against her because that's as close as I can ever allow myself to be. I kiss her deeply then whisper, "We need the spell, even if I spill outside of you."

I feel her nod her head and we whisper the words that will protect her future. The simultaneous chant strengthens the spell and she relaxes sufficiently to wrap her legs around my hips as she thrusts forward to maximize our contact. The heat flows through my body and I feel her hands roaming over me. My desire quickens when she gives a light caress as her hands flutter across the taut muscles at my belly. The shudder rolls through me and I am spent, barely able to hold my weight off of her.

Then all I feel are her lips on mine, then she kisses my throat before I let my head fall beside her. A quick spell and we're both clean enough to enjoy the relaxation. I manage to drop a kiss on her forehead before succumbing to slumber.

But my last thought is about sharing a perfect moment, the intimate contact, with the woman I love. And I know my face breaks into a stupid grin as I recall the most important words, my Nymphadora saying, "I love you."

_End Chapter 2_

Okay, so I gave a bit more of a scene with the return to Grimmauld place, but the rest should focus on the evolving physical relationship between Tonks and Lupin. And, yes, I expect Remus and Tonks to both have a lot of hang ups, but they'll pull each other through.

Thanks for reading. If you're new to the story, the rest of it is at Nymph vs Wolf.


	3. Reveal

Summary: Winter holidays bring new discoveries.

**NYMPHATIC DREAMS**

**Nymph vs Wolf**  
_**Magical Dimensions**_

_Christmas_

The winter holidays began in horror with Nagini's attack on Arthur Weasley. Luckily Tonks was working late that night at the Ministry and she was able to transfer some of my healing abilities to him until we could take him to St. Mungo's. We created an alibi wherein Arthur was bitten while helping me hunt for Dark Creatures, so again I've been censored by the Ministry of Magic, by none other than Nymphadora Tonks, in fact.

I know she regretted the harshness of our interview, but that was our last time together before I was away on mission. I can't help worry that the truth of our situation is finally dawning on her. Werewolves do not make welcomed dinner guests, friends or lovers. Still, I promised I would come by on Christmas, and so now I'm waiting in her flat with a small gift for her in my pocket.

She finally arrives and I know I shouldn't be surprised to find her dressed as an elf. Somehow it all makes sense with her family. I'm also relieved that she's happy to see me--and that she doesn't suspect I'm the one who unraveled Wimples, her vorpal bunny, from the jumper she knitted for the furball.

I fill her in on the events of the day while she's still standing there looking like the sexiest elf I've ever seen. Short skirts suit her quite nicely.

"...Arthur was in good spirits today. He had a roommate, a man who suffered a werewolf bite during the last full moon. I spoke with the fellow, but I'm not sure it did much good."

"I wonder what's worse? Being bitten as a child or as an adult?" Her face is pensive as she considers this fate.

"I've never really known a life without lycanthropy," I say as a memory floods my mind. The dreadful name escapes me, "Fenrir Greyback."

"Fen--You were bitten by Fenrir Greyback?" I can tell by the look in her eyes that she recognizes the man who embodies every negative image of being a werewolf.

"It was a long time ago and I don't want to think about it."

Tonks bites her lip and sounds shy when she recommends, "Then maybe you should kiss me instead?"

My heart skips a beat at her words. My relief is now complete at the confirmation that she still wants me. I lean forward to kiss her, her soft lips tasting of mint.

"You taste like a candycane," I murmur before attacking her lovely neck.

She giggles a little and admits, "Shared some peppermint schnapps with Granpa Tonks."

But she kisses me again, only deeper, and I'm contemplating whether mint is even better than chocolate, when ---

_Ching, ching, ching._

We burst out laughing when we see that Wimples is attacking the silly jingle bells on the pointed shoes she's wearing.

"Wimples." Her exasperated sigh says it all, but the bunny just hops away into the kitchen to forage. She shakes her head and says, "Look, I need to change out of this, but we're continuing where we left off, so get comfortable. And I have a present for you."

I shrug out of my jacket, kick off my shoes and just relax now. Tonks soon returns wearing a blue sweater dress. Her feet are bare and the material clings nicely to her body. Wait. Does she have nipples? And that's obviously a dim-witted question. Let me try again. Is she NOT wearing a bra?

I'm so absorbed by my contemplation of her bust that I don't realize she's carrying a package for me until she abruptly thrusts it at me. I unwrap another of her knitting adventures, only this time it's a very, very long scarf with the Gryffindor colors. It's perfect!

I give her my package with a diffident shrug. She knows the state of my finances, but I worry that the gift will disappoint her. Still, Tonks smiles brightly as she opens the box. She pulls out the hemp bracelet adorned with sea shells. I selected ones that were the same shade of pink as she usually wears her hair. Will she think this a present for a child?

"Remus, this is so pretty. You don't think I'll smash them or tear the band?"

Her voice takes on an anxious tone as she voices her doubts, so I clasp the bracelet over her wrist. "It has a preservation spell, young lady, so I dare you to do your worse. Besides, I've never made a bracelet that's broken."

"You made this?" She's holding up her hand to inspect it.

"It doesn't really take much skill and I'm an old hand at it, although I haven't made one in ages."

I take her hand in mine and admire how the pink shells complement her creamy skin. It had felt right to make this for Tonks, just as it had whenever I made one for my mother. I hesitate for only a moment as I reveal, "Mum had a veritable rainbow that I made for her, a different color for each year I was at Hogwarts. She was buried with them."

She squeezes my hand and the expression in her eyes makes me feel as if I've given her a crown of gold. "I am truly honored to wear this, Remus."

I am again moved by how well she understands me. A more sophisticated woman would have scoffed at my humble gift, but Nymphadora places more value on the sentiment. This simple way of looking at life reminds me of my own mother, another woman lost to me.

And I will eventually have to lose the lovely nymph who sits with me, but she will have a simple bracelet as a memento. I can only hope it will remind her of these moments that I, too, will treasure. Still, when I was crafting it, each shell represented a lost chance to say--

"I love you," she whispers as she leans forward to kiss me.

I hear the rustle of fabric and feel the warmth of her body as she straddles my lap. Her kiss distracts me from her fingers as they release the buttons of my shirt. I push the anxiety of being exposed to the back of my mind. This is Tonks and my scars diminish under her hands.

As my hands move across the fabric of her back, a sly grin erupts from me as I begin to nibble on her neck. Indeed, I suppose the peppermint schnapps affected her inhibitions because there is no bra! My hand moves to caress her breasts through the fabric and for a moment I'm lost in enjoying the soft texture of cloth gliding across the firm contours of her breasts and the sharp rise of her nipples.

My hips thrust up to her heat as my hands fall to her waist to press her to me while she kisses my mouth again as a lovely moan erupts from her. My hands slide under the skirt and push up the hem as they skim up her thighs and push under the cloth of her nickers to rest on her buttocks. Soon my fingers are kneading in rhythm to the kisses she's leaving on my throat.

"Eek!"

I've surprised her by rising from the sofa with my hands tucked firmly under bottom, but she chuckles and just wraps her legs around my waist. I'm trying not to stumble as I make my way to the bedroom, but her head darts forward quickly to plant kisses on my mouth, my neck, my ear. And she knows exactly what she's doing to me, too.

I feel the edge of the bed against my legs and she falls back onto the mattress with a bounce and a giggle. She looks rather seductive with her skirt hiked up just enough to give a teasing glance of the nickers.

I kneel in front of her by the bed "Either it's the peppermint schnapps," I begin as my hand runs up her thigh, "or you are becoming a truly wicked woman."

She's laughing softly at my accusation and uses her foot to trail up my chest before resting her ankle on my shoulder. Then she uses the limb to move my shirt open. "Either way, it's a burden you'll have to bare."

I smile at her pun and obey the signal to shrug out of the shirt, but capture her ankle with my hand. I most definitely want to taste her. So my lips nuzzle against the smooth skin at her ankle, her calf and then kiss the back of her knee--

I have to move back given how she jerked at that one, but the accompanying moan is very suggestive. So I go back to my task, but pay careful attention to be avoid sudden moves. My mouth is delighted by the feel of the skin of her inner thigh and her scent again becomes intoxicating. My hand moves up to caress her while my lips attend to her other limb as I try to make up my mind.

What if I do it wrong? I'm no expert and although I think I know what she'd like, the unknown makes my confidence waver. Then I feel her lift up her hips and tug at the wasitband of her nickers. A gentleman should always be helpful to his lady, so I make sure the garment is quickly shed.

And at the sight, I make up my mind to descend upon this lovely flower before me. I explore gently, the new sensations at my mouth are intoxicating and the moans encourage me. Still, her body seems tense.

"Is this all right?" I ask as I lift my head for a moment. Does she think I'm some pervert for wanting this? Does she think this is just an expression of the beast within?

I hear her take a breath and say, "It feels good, but don't do it if--"

"I want you, Nymphadora." I whisper the words before I fall upon her again and I feel her relax. Then the intensity of the sensation around me, her skin, her scent, her moans, make my movements too urgent.

"Oh."

That is not a moan of pleasure and I stop immediately. She gently strokes the top of my head in example and just says, "I--it's all right, just, light touch."

I move to kiss the palm of her hand gently to let her know I'm in control again. I know Nymphadora Tonks, I know how to make her body respond. So I remember that kisses are simple paths to pleasure. Lips, tongue, warmth, pressure that coaxes but doesn't force. Soon she's moving to press against me, a sure sign to increase the intensity. A burst of power then flows through me as her body practically convulses as her desire strikes her in waves.

I lay my head on her belly and feel her lovely hands threading through my hair in comforting strokes. Good boy, you've done well. Damn, why do I have this image of a wolf wagging his tail? I feel her stretching her body underneath me as her abdominals become taut.

She's squirming now as she's trying to release her arms from her dress, so being the helpful man that I am, I help her push off the garment. But then I'm distracted by her breasts and fall to nuzzling them with fervor.

Her question comes rather shyly. "Remus? Do you want me to?"

Her voice dies off as the rest of her question remains unspoken. Do I want her to? What? I'm looking up at her and notice her blush suffusing her face before I make the connection. She misreads my silence.

"You're right; I'd probably wind up hurting you," she mumbles. Her voice conveys a total lack of confidence and she keeps her face averted.

I adjust my position so that I'm propped on my elbow as I look at my beautiful nymph. I trace her lips with two fingers as I think about her suggestion. My breathing quickens at the image and I feel her tongue flick out against my fingers.

I push my fingers into her mouth just a little as I ask, "Are we thinking about the same thing?"

"Yes." The word is spoken distinctly before she moves her mouth to encompass my fingers. I feel her tongue trailing along skin and the sensation increases my arousal to the point of breaking.

"Well, I don't think it will take long," I admit with a quiet laugh as I move my fingers off of her mouth to get these damn trousers off me.

She smiles at me now and teases, "Less opportunity for damage."

But then she's helping me get out of my clothes and I don't know which of us is more anxious. I lie on my back and relax, but anticipation is sending these erotic images through my mind. I wait and tell myself to not be disappointed if Tonks decides not to follow through.

Then I feel her kissing my belly and providing the familiar strokes to me with her hand. It feels so good that my disappointment is just momentary. I think she's decided against her offer, but before I can tell her it's all right, I am encompassed by the warmth of her mouth.

"Guuuh." I have no idea what that means, but it's the only thing I can think of.

I just know I need to touch her, so I reach out to bring her body closer to me and my hand glides up and down her thigh in the same rhythm with which she attends me. My attention soon is focused on the stimulation she's providing and I realize she's spending some time assuaging her own curiosity as she adjust the strokes of her tongue, her hand, the pressure of her lips.

So Professor R. J. Lupin has been reduced to nothing but a plaything for the Auror Nymphadora Tonks. And I would gladly suffer this state for the rest of my life, but that is not to be, so I try to commit all of these intimate moments to memory. Moments where I felt totally human, nothing more than a man responding to the touch of the woman he loves.

She stops for a moment and asks quietly, "Am I? Is this--"

"Oh, yesss," I say, but the words end in a hiss as her mouth drops again to me.

She continues with more confidence and soon I'm clutching at the bedcovers as the climax whips through me suddenly. I have enough presence of mind not to thrust at her with too much force, but soon I am spent. I feel her body fall on top of my me, the brush of her breasts against my thighs. I can't even deliver enough energy to speak, so I just let my hand fall on her back as she lays across me.

I barely register her rising from the bed, but soon I feel that gentle push so that in moments she lays in my embrace under the covers.

Before I drift off, I hear her ask tenuously, "It was okay?"

A stupid grin is on my face as I squeeze her next to me. "Well, I have no comparison, so--"

She cuts me off with a laugh and a kiss. "We'll just have to do this again."

And I let myself cling to the fantasy that again means forever.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_New Year's Eve_

_Tonks' Flat_

It's the New Year and Remus and I are spending a quiet evening at my flat. We've just recovered from having transformed into a doll-sized Lupin while I managed to become a four-year old brat. Thank goodness I didn't have go through puberty again! No, I much prefer being a woman, especially where Remus is concerned.

Our age difference means that he was already at Hogwarts when I was born, but now we're both adults. And in the long run, we're both so new to this romance business that I don't feel younger because we're both so inexperienced. It's wonderful to share these discoveries with Remus, even if he can't bring himself to tell me that he loves me. Instead, I look to the things he does, the way he looks at me, the tender caresses, all speak of a very deep feeling. I just hope it is love.

So now we're dancing to the songs on the Wireless while he tells me of my recent exploits as a hyperactive four-year old."

"I sound like a brat," I sigh. His stories correspond with my Mum's.

"You were a very charming brat. In fact, you were quite adorable," he says.

Were? And what am I now? So I pout and he quickly adds, "You are adorable."

"I'm glad everything's back to normal," I sigh as the song ends and the countdown begins.

"But now we're in a new year." He tightens his arms around me as if he thinks I will melt away with the countdown.

Silly man, he doesn't realize he won't be able to get rid of me yet. "I hear there's a time honored tradition about kissing someone to welcome the New Year."

Lupin frowns "I don't care what the tradition is, I'm not kissing Wimples, even if he did serve as a decoy during our last mission."

I laugh and slap his shoulder, but he counters my attack with a kiss. When he releases me, I just take his hand and lead him to the bedroom. He sits on the bed and while I'm standing in front of him wearing a pink dress that matches the seashell bracelet perfectly.

He nuzzles the bracelet aside before kissing my wrist. He unclasps it and gently lays it on the nightstand but before I can straddle him, he just shakes his head and I feel his hands skim up the back of my legs. His hands glide in one long stroke up my body to remove the dress.

It's not the cooler air in the room that makes me shiver as his hand traces the line of my spine while he kisses my breasts. I feel the tug on the nickers and then I'm standing completely nude in front of Remus.

His single-minded attention to my desire is evident as he trails his kisses down to his ultimate goal. The sensations are delightful, but my legs are feeling weak, so I hold onto his shoulders to keep myself in position. I can barely get the words out. "Remus, bed."

He drops a few kisses on my hipbones before releasing me and I feel compelled to attack him now. I pull up on the jumper he wears so that his abdomen is exposed and begin to kiss him while my hands see to removing his trousers.

I don't ask this time. I don't suddenly think I'm an expert, but now I'm confident that I know what he wants. So this time I'm kneeling by the bed while he's slowing turning into an incoherent mess. What exactly does Guh mean, anyway?

"Nymphadora, not yet," he finally pleads. I stop and tease him by kissing his thigh and dropping another kiss on his hipbones, just like he did to me before.

I push his jumper off of his torso as I kiss his chest along a trail of scars. He lies naked under me now and my eyes fall to one of his newer scars, one that lies right at his heart. I drop a kiss to the spot as I remember the pain I felt when I punctured his heart.

I feel his hand caressing the nape of my neck, but then he brings me up for a kiss as he pushes me back onto the bed. He sits up and just traces the contours of my body with an elegant finger.

Then he puts his head on my lap and simply says, "Now, where was I?"

He resumes his previous labor, but this time our positions allow me to attend to him as well. Waves of pleasure soon dance through me. When I regain my senses, I make sure I leave him just addle-brained as I was.

And as I'm lying in his arms again, I wonder. Do all men provide this single-minded attention to their woman's desire? Actually, I have no intention of finding. All of my needs are met by one man: Remus Lupin.

- - - - - -

I'm convinced there's some ancient magic about morning snuggle time, especially since the man I love is lying naked by my side, his body in contact with every inch of my skin. I'm holding Remus so that my lips are pressing against the back of his shoulder as his upper torso leans against me. I wonder if it looks uncomfortable, but it's like having a security blanket. Then his arm shifts as a cue to slip through so that in moments I lay my head on his chest.

He rarely voices his demands, but Remus is quite expressive through his movements. His arms seem to tighten around me in satisfaction. It's a shame in a way that his body tells me so many things that the man will not, but it's part of accepting Remus for being, well, Remus.

So he has to accept me for being Tonks. My hand slides across his belly and lazily traces some scars before finding that midline that descends from his naval. Can he feel my grin? He isn't ticklish. It's rather disappointing, really, but then he is--oooh! I've made his tummy twitch. No, he isn't ticklish, but he is very definitely responsive. My hand glides to cover him and my legs become entwined with his.

My fingers just trail along his skin; there's no need to rush. There's something enticing about making his body respond to me. I get a thrill knowing that I'm the only one allowed to touch him like this. I fall into the stroke I know he likes. Oh, yes, his breathing quickens as I notice the slightest thrust of his hips. His hand gives an urgent caress to my exposed breasts. His long fingers are marvelous tools for inducing pleasure.

My head is rubbing against his chest and my lips brush against the nipple. He's caressing my body with long strokes from his fingers, then kneads the flesh of my hips as his excitement rises. Suddenly he's slipping his fingers across my hipbones and moves down so that his fingers give the slightest pressure to nudge my thighs apart.

Ah, he doesn't hesitate and offers me sure strokes as I learn to recognize the source of pleasure from this stimulation. My hand falls away from his hard member as I focus on this. He moves us again so that that he's spooned against my back, rubbing tightly against my bum while his hand resumes its caress.

And all the while he's leaving passionate kisses on the nape of my neck, my shoulders. I can feel his desire growing against me as he moves the hand to press my hips even more tightly against him. His breath becomes a shudder and his head falls to rub against mine gently. I feel the warmth of his seed on my back disappear and I smile quietly at his talent for wandless magic. He drops a kiss on my earlobe before he sets his entire attention to fulfilling my desires. It only takes a few moments before I'm flooded with waves of pleasure and he captures my mouth for a deep kiss until the passion slides away.

I love morning snuggle time, I think as we drift into that early morning slumber again. At this moment, there are no curses, only blessings.

_End Chapter 3_

Author Note:

And so the physical relationship progresses. In the first scene, Tonks isn't inebriated. The peppermint schnapps was just enough to relieve her of certain inhibitions where Remus was concerned, but if she didn't trust him, she would be so--playful. Thanks for reading.


	4. Offer

Summary: What will did it take for Remus and Tonks to become lovers?

**NYMPHATIC DREAMS  
Nymph vs Wolf: _True Colors_**

_January 16  
Grimmauld Place_

It has been an eventful new year with the escape of the Death Eaters from Azkaban. I haven't seen Tonks in days now, yet I wasn't too surprised to find her at Order headquarters in the early hours of a new day. She had her duffel bag in one hand and her vorpal bunny in the other.

Tonks could have just sent a note and I would have picked up Wimples, but instead she comes to Grimmauld Place. And I'm not so dim-witted that I fail to understand she wants to spend her last moments before her mission with me. She'll have to face Dementors, those soul-sucking ghouls that are no allies to the Ministry. As far as I'm concerned, they stay at Azkaban for their own sick reasons. My heart constricts at the thought of my lovely nymph being around them, but I have no words that would fortify her spirit--at least, none that would be fair to voice.

Sirius urges me to not make things complicated, to simply make sure that Tonks leaves here with a memory that will reinforce her ability to conjure a Patronus. "It's not the act, it's the intimacy, understand?"

Of course I understand that! I'm a scholar so I know that sex as a memory couldn't fuel a proper Patronus any more than the exhilaration of flying on a broomstick could. But the feeling of being loved, rather than the moment of lust, is a powerful emotion that can safeguard you from despair. And, yes, I also understand that it isn't some perverted voyeurism that motivates Sirius, but a need to make sure that his little cousin can protect herself from Dementors.

Furthermore, Sirius knows that I couldn't make love to her if I didn't first love Nymphadora Tonks. I suppose it is rather simple.

Then why do I feel so awkward as I stand by her, trying to make up my mind about what to do? Tonks asks nothing of me; that would make it easier, but she doesn't say a word. I just take her hand in mine and lead her up the stairs to my room in silence.

I close the door and notice she's moving self-consciously as she lets her duffel fall to the floor, but then she turns to look at me and her eyes tell me everything. They hold warmth, desire, love, and a very urgent need. She needs no grace for seduction, just the intensity of her gaze.

I feel like that gangly schoolboy of my Hogwarts' days as I move to her while I try to decide whether to pursue this. Regardless, I know I need to touch her, for both her sake and mine, so my hand reaches out to unclasp her cloak before my arms draw her to me. I feel the tension dissolve from our bodies as we give in to the warm embrace. This is my one truth at this moment: we belong.

And the right thing to do to acknowledge this truth is a kiss, one that serves as a soulful salute to our connection. The kiss is effective in dissipating the doubts I have. We sleep together regularly, in fact, I find it difficult to slumber without her by my side now. We touch each other most intimately and with great trust, sharing what pleasure we can in each other's body.

But to make love to Tonks means I would be taking her virginity, although I am no more experienced than she. This is unfair, isn't it? I will be walking away from her when our three dates are finished and Nymphadora Tonks will become nothing more than a nymphatic dream again. I imagine how painful it would be--or would it be worse to wonder?

I look deeply into her eyes, then my forehead falls against hers. She needs to understand the limits.

"I--you--Tonks, if we do this, it's not because it's the promise of a future."

"Can't we just forget who we are and just give in to what we are? Just a man with a woman?" she whispers.

"That's all it can be," I emphasize as I cup that beautiful face with my hands. I cannot lie to her and I will not not say the words that express my true feelings--but do I need to?

"That's all I need right now," she assures before she drags my head down for a tender kiss. Odd that at this moment, the gentle pressure is more effective than a passionate kiss would be to seal my fate.

We are not driven by insatiable lust, we're not drunk off our asrse and unaware of what we're doing. No, we've come to a decision and we make the gift to each other freely--and perhaps that's the most important part of this coupling. We offer each other love without conditions.

I lean her back against the bed as I decide to finally deepen the kiss. Feeling her firm, young body under me fuels my desire and again I wonder why she bothers with an old man like me. I lean on my elbow and just look at her for a moment before my fingers begin to unbutton her Oxford. My mouth falls to taste her flesh as it is revealed and I don't stop until my nymph lies naked on my bed.

But she has not been idle, either, as I feel her shove aside the shirt of my pajamas and tug on my waistband. For a moment we just share an embrace as we touch the familiar territory of each other's body. Scars meet satin skin, gentle fingers stroke through grey-streaked hair, her womanly softness presses against my hardened manhood. We are a contrast of features, yet we suit each other perfectly.

I press my hand against her belly and look at her for a moment. She smiles wistfully before saying, "You know, Pomfrey thinks that, well, that I'm likely to be barren because of--A metamorphmagus is hard to impregnate."

Her words are a surprise, but I understand the reasoning. Still, given the dreams I've had of late where Tonks and I have children, I do not doubt my seed would grow in her. Perhaps it's just male arrogance or perhaps its a lupine legacy that makes me think this.

"Pomfrey has been wrong before," I say. This time her smile brightens and we chant the contraceptive spell together.

I fear I have grown addicted to her taste, so my mouth explores her body at leisure knowing that it is important this time that she be relaxed. And she could always change her mind about this ultimate act. But as her ecstatic moans fade, my head now rests at her breast and I can feel her heart racing.

"Yes?" I don't need to voice the question further.

Her hands tangle in my hair and she whispers, "Yes."

So now it's up to me to consummate our relationship, but am I ready for this? I can feel my breath quickening at the thought of entering her. Merlin, what the hell should I do now? One quick thrust? Or should it be slow? She's become accustomed to the probing sensations and there will be no maidenhead given Tonks' active lifestyle, but I'm still afraid I will hurt her. Or what if I spill immediately at the new sensation and offer her nothing for her trouble?

I bide my time by kissing her breasts and attacking her throat for a moment when I feel her shifting under me. Her hips tilt, I feel one of her hands caressing my own hip while the other captures me. I feel myself harden further at these signs that she wants me inside her.

And my fears evaporate when she whispers, "I love you."

Our bodies meet with an intimate connection, both of us pushing forward. There's no turning back now and this new stimulation is--to hell with anything else! The warm pressure that surrounds me is so strong and I lose myself in a few thrusts before I think to ask, "Are you all right?"

Oh, what a gentleman. I'm asking about her comfort without ceasing my movements. The primitive rhythm my body wants is overwhelming, so I force myself hold still for a moment and not abuse the woman I love.

"Yes," she sighs. "You're just--not slender-- like your fingers. I mean--"

I stop her rambling with a kiss and feel her legs relax which means I can--

I am lost to thought as I let desire direct my movements; it's like riding a wave. And that's exactly what I feel like: the sea that crashes against the Wolf Rock lighthouse, the water receding only to flow again with full force until the sea spray covers all.

My mind can only contain one thought: I love you. But it is something I only allow my body to express as I spill into my nymph.

"Nymphadora." I can only murmur her name and barely have the sense to hold my weight off of her.

"I love you, Remus." Those are the last words I hear as my mind finally floats away.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - .

_March 21  
Heidelberg_

Something is being dumped down my throat, but I have to swallow because someone is pinching my nose. What the?

_Choke. Gasp. Cough_.

"Ooooooooooh." I'm surprised I got any word out. Head. Hurts. Baaad. Then I feel a sharp whack of a wand on my forehead and while it leaves a sting, the headache is relieved. I lean forward to cup my head and mumble, "Where are we?"

"Still in Heidelberg."

Tonks' voice. Good--or maybe not. Vague images of the past few days arise. Tonks came back to me after being gone for two months, but our second date was to attend a wedding in Heidelberg. Unfortunately, my bloodline has ruined our reunion. I move my hands away but keep my eyes closed in disgust as I memories flit through my mind.

"Who are you?" Tonks' voice again, but this time there's an edge to her tone. I open my eyes and find her wand pointing at my throat. I have no doubt that she's mastered control over the asphyxiation spell that could either rend me unconscious or lifeless.

I gingerly put my head back on the pillow to show that I place myself at her mercy before answering her question But what exactly do I say? "I am now myself."

"Now?" The wand presses at my throat as she asks an important question, "_Imperio_?"

I blink as my fuzzy mind finally understands that would be the most logical conclusion. But will the truth be any worse? Still, she deserves an explanation and it would do the Order no good for me to pretend I was under an I_mperus_. "No, not _imperio_, but Lyonesse."

Tonks moves the wand away and bites her lip. "Muggles call it channeling."

"Yes," I agree, feeling somewhat relieved she didn't refer to it as possession. I close my eyes and force an explanation. "The price I pay for the healing power of Lyonesse is to host the spirit of my ancestors for a time. The year's dues are paid at the Spring equinox."

I open my eyes and look at her warily. She has a pensive expression on her face, but instead of castigating me as a freak, she merely asks another question. "How many spirits can take over?"

"Only one at a time, but--" I hesitate as I try to explain. My ancestors range from Scholars to Scamps to outright devils. "So far it hasn't been any of the, well, the evil ones."

I see her eyes soften and think she's going to gently explain why this is too much for her to handle. She threads her hand through mine, though. "Are you all right now or will, will the Scholar or the Scamp be back?"

I smile and tighten our clasped hands. Tonks reads me so well and her ability to accept all of my secrets is a blessing I don't deserve. "It's funny you should call them that; that's how I've always labeled them."

I exhale slowly and offer my best guess. "This was the earliest this has happened. Typically it's just a day, just the equinox, but that's why the cell was built into Wolf Rock. If necessary, one could always spend the day safely locked away. What's harder is coming back, but I've gotten better at it over the years."

"So this year you had to pay the price for surviving the silver screening and for saving Arthur's life." Tonks nods to herself before adding, "You don't like giving up control, do you? So you develop fastidious habits and curb your emotions."

"The first time the Scholar showed up, I was just as scared as on the full moon. It would take me a week to find my way back, but as I got older, I gained more self-control. By the time I got to Hogwarts, it was just a few days after the vernal equinox that I lost. By the time I graduated, I could deal with the Scholar in a day. But then the other began showing up, the Scamp."

Tonks averts her gaze and a blush appears as she asks a predictable question given the Scamp's proclivities for trying to seduce women. "So, was, er, am I really your first?"

"As much as I was yours," I reply as I reach out to touch her precious face. In the years I dealt with the Scamp, I managed to avoid his plans regarding women of easy virtue by either regaining control or making sure the body was passed out drunk. "I don't know why the Scamp keeps coming back. I always wind up frustrating his plans."

She laughs before agreeing. "He's a rather distractable fellow."

"Ah, yes, the Guiness. The Scamp does like his brew."

"And I thought the Blacks had an interesting bloodline."

Bloodlines and curses, yes, I am a remarkable man for carrying around so many demons. My voice becomes harsh as I say, "It's not just the lycanthropy that makes me a freak, so that's why I never told Sirius or the others about Lyonesse."

"Remus! Don't you--you saved others from the torture of silver screening. You saved Arthur's life! You're no more a freak than I am." Despite her strong insistence, her shoulders slump "But I guess people have been calling me a freak all my life, too."

"Nymphadora, you're a woman of unique talent and I am truly sorry for anything they said, anything they did, that hurt you."

A soft laugh falls from her lips. "I thought you had decided to push me away again. They were doing a good job of not being you."

"I promised you three dates." What more can I say? I fully expect our relationship to end, but I also intend to see it through unless she decides she's had enough. Nymphadora needs to know that she's not the one with the problems.

We remain silent and it gives me time to really look at her. She returned from her assignment at Azkaban just days ago and our recent adventures have given her nothing but trouble. I can see the dark circles under her eyes. "You look tired. I'm sorry, you should have been relaxing and resting."

"It's not all about you. I really don't care to be used like Gretchen's watchdog. Bill will make sure Otto makes it to his wedding."

Yes, that's right. The bride, Gretchen, was using Tonks to police the wedding party and make sure her groom, Otto, behaves. I think Bill Weasley, the best man, is up to the task, although he did have to dodge that brazen bridesmaid if I remember.

Tonks suddenly giggles, so I ask, "What is it?"

"Fleur, she," and here Tonks bursts into laughter. Once she sobers, she explains, "Fleur managed to, uh, accidentally cast a spell on Heidi, the maid of honor? You know the one that kept trying to snog Bill? Or do you remember anything?"

"It's fuzzy, but I seem to recall a statuesque blonde dressed in green," I say, actually relieved that the details I recalled were real.

"That's the one. Well, last night after we got in, Fleur zapped her legs boneless by mistake. She caught Heidi trying to steal into Bill's hotel room and assumed it was a thief."

"It sounds like a very deliberate mistake," I observe. I make a note to myself to stay on the good side of the Beauxbatons Triwizard Champion.

"I thought Fleur showed a lot of restraint. Heidi looked rather silly flopping around on the floor, but it's nothing that Skele-gro won't fix. The point is that Fleur felt obliged to take her place in the wedding party and Gretchen readily agreed to use Fleur as a proxy. I think Gretchen was worried Heidi would go after Otto next."

"Ah, so what exactly are you saying?"

"I'm saying, Professor, that I'd rather spend the next few days," she begins as she traces the buttons of my shirt, "recovering at Wolf Rock."

It sounds like a heavenly venture, but then I remember her vorpal bunny now back at her flat. "But, Wimples--"

"Fleur and Bill will check in on him for me," assures Tonks.

"I ruined our date and I wasn't even trying to this time." I sigh as I realize that there's no need to deliberately try to muck up this thing with Tonk; fate will intervene accordingly.

"I know, but we did tour Heidelberg and go to a pub. And we still have St. Mungo's ball," reminds Tonks. "So, do we go to Wolf Rock?"

"Yes." What else can I say seeing as how she's got me trapped beneath her body now? Not that I'm really complaining.

"And do I get a ride on the skiff?" She kisses my left cheek and nuzzles my ear.

"Oh, yes." I'm liable to agree to anything at this point.

"And a dip in the hot springs?" She kisses my right cheek and nibbles on that ear.

"It's been a while since they were visited by a water nymph." I cup her face and kiss her lips properly before releasing her. "Now let me get up so we can go."

Tonks moves off me and is bouncing on her knees on the bed. "Good, because I've yet to be welcomed home properly."

I'm sitting up now and turn to look at her. We had no time for anything but kisses before the Scholar took over my body. She leans forward and kisses me passionately. I have no doubts that we are both yearning for the same sign of welcome.

And in a few hours we're taking the skiff back up to the lighthouse at Wolf Rock. Again, I've left off the canopy at Tonks' insistence, but we're both drenched from the ocean spray and laughing when we get to the entry of my house.

She stumbles a bit as she steps out of the skiff and when I catch her, she merely turns it into an opportunity for a kiss. "Mm, salty."

I pull back. "Then let's get you out of those clothes and into the shower."

"Remus Lupin! Do you have lascivious intentions?" she asks with mock concern.

I take a moment to trace the form of her breasts clearly outlined by the wet shirt she wears. "Absolutely."

"It's about time," she yells as she dashes off ahead of me to the door.

So I'm left to carry our bags and then practically trip on her clothing on the way down to the floor that holds my bedroom. I gather the wet items with a point of my wand and send them up to the parlor to dry by the fire.

I finally enter my bedroom and toss the bags to the floor when I hear her singing in the shower. I recognize the old Muggle song about singing in the rain and smile at the memories it brings, but we've come a long way from splashing through puddles on a rainy day.

"Remus?"

"I'll be right there." I'm saying this as I'm shedding my clothes. I make the mistake of stepping into the shower and preventing her fall by grabbing her around the waist.

The shriek pierces my eardrum, but the ensuing giggles assure me that she's merely ticklish in a very squirmy, soapy sort of way.

"At least I won't need to lather up," I murmur as she finally settles down. She just throws a grin at me before leaving a dollop of soap on my nose.

"There, you should be all clean," she teases.

I just turn my head into the faucet to remove the residue while she steps out of the shower and grabs a thick towel. I give into my evil compulsion and shake the water out of my hair. Ah, the advantages of height.

"It's a rainstorm!" she complains before she tries to snap the towel at me.

But I just grab the edge of the towel and roll it around my arm, effectively bringing her toward me. I bend to kiss her, but when I move to her neck water droplets are still present.

So being the gentleman that I am, I rub the towel across her body. My hand moves the plush terry cloth across her breasts. So beautiful. I sit on the edge of the tub so that I can reach them and soon my mouth replaces the towel as her bring her body between my knees.

She brings an edge of the towel to rub through my hair, but she turns even that maneuver into a caress. My hand roams along her curves and feel the goose bumps on her skin. The towel is lying across her belly and I take the edge to make sure the water droplets are absorbed so she will be warm.

She drops her end of the towel so that she can caress my back while I still suckle her. I catch the towel against our bodies before it falls to the floor and decide to rub the soft fabric to dry her thighs. The low moan of pleasure that she emits provokes me to tease her, though.

The towel is soft and cushions the pressure from my nuckles as my hand finds its way to her desire. Her pelvis reciprocates the pressure and focus my attention to bringing her to bliss. My lovely nymph seems to suddenly melt against me.

"More." That's all she says as her lips are at my ear, nibbling gently.

I put my hand on her stomach and we whisper the charm before I pick her up and carry her to my bed. She lies there as the incarnation of my fantasies. My friend, my lover, the only woman I could take to wife. And in the ancient dwelling of my ancestors, I let myself believe that would be possible.

And so I enter her as a groom would his bride, with the thought of cherishing this woman for the rest of my life. But I know this will be just another memory in a few months. Still, I kiss her deeply before I lose sight of anything but the need to spill into her. I want to maximize her pleasure, but my need is too urgent right now to follow through this time. So I let my body work automatically and try to keep my enthusiasm in check. The tight pressure is my only focus, the evidence that my lovely nymph is not a dream, but my own woman.

It is a wonderful thing that nature gave us, this intimate physical act. And what separates us from the rutting animals? This ability to use the act as an expression of love, just as it should be.

- - - - - -

I'm laying with my head on Remus' chest while his arms embrace me. I can see the beginnings of daylight filtering in through the window. I love this old lighthouse with its infinite stairs, creaking joints, fractured walls and centuries of history. Because in all of its flaws, Wolf Rock still offers a sense of eternal security, much like the man who owns it.

I cling to him tightly for a moment with my knee bent around his body, the inner thigh rubbing along his pelvis. Hm? I've been too worried about the coupling to understand where to discover all the pleasures in this new sensation. The way he fills me gives me a unique stimulation, but it is all so new and I haven't focused on all the sources of pleasure.

But I'm being greedy or--Oh, no! Has losing my virginity turned me into a sex-crazed slut? And the thought sounds so ridiculous that I chuckle softly. No, I only want Remus and who could blame me for my curiosity? We've lead celibate lives, so it's little wonder that our initial curiosity is unsatiable.

So I begin kissing his body, nice gentle kisses as I follow the line of fine hair down his belly. I feel him stirring, but not waking yet. And I know one of Remus' secret pleasures, I think as I lick my lips. I capture him fully and have to smile when it takes so little effort to get a response.

"Nymphadora?"

His voice is very husky and I wonder if he thinks he's dreaming. His hand is searching for my body and soon finds my hip since my legs are toward his head. I adjust my body for his access and say, "Just playing."

I hear a low, approving moan from his throat as his fingers begin their magic touch on me. We're lazily provoking each other but again he wins the prize first as I quicken to the caresses he provides. Oh what a fate I live with! I can hear his victorious chuckle as I regain my senses. Conceited man! But I have to admit it's well deserved.

So I increase the attack of my mouth on his body and feel his desire growing. Soon I stop and drop a kiss on his belly as I change positions. He pulls me up onto him and kisses me deeply as he rolls me onto my back.

My legs capture his hips as a clear signal of what I want. "Remus?"

"You're not sore?" he murmurs.

"I'm fine," I whisper. This time our movements are deliberate as I guide him and his breathing is steadier than last time.

"Just let me--there," he murmurs.

Instead of just the thrust, he attends to how his body is laying on mine and soon I understand why.

"Oh!" The pleasure I feel is a surprise. Yes, his body provides that perfect touch, each movement excites my body. I open my eyes to find he is watching me intently.

"Good?" He asks this as he tests a movement.

"The best," I quickly agree as another tingle flows through me.

I begin moving with him to maximize this pleasure. I guess I am rather greedy, but it feels so right to connect with him like this. Soon my body quivers around him and I have no words to describe it. I have no thought except for ecstasy and I realize I'm practically bucking him off as my back arches up.

He stops for a moment to let my climax recede, but it's only for a moment. He's changing position slightly and as he continues his journey, I can focus on what his strokes do for me. And I'm learning the pleasure of this act, but there's nothing like the joy that fills me when I feel him losing control. I hold him to me tightly as he finally releases.

"I love you," I say and although he doesn't echo the words, he kisses me tenderly as an affirmation.

With Remus, actions speak louder than words.

_End Chapter 4_

Author Notes:  
One more chapter to go. I wanted to clear things up about first times. Most women really don't have much of a barrier to sex and only about one third of them even bleed during their first time, so there is no mention blood or pain, merely a different sensation.

Thanks for reading, no reviews are necessary.


	5. End

Summary: Remus finds a solution to his relationship with Tonks.

**NYMPHATIC DREAMS  
Nymph vs Wolf**_**: Sunsets**_

_St. Mungo's Charity Ball: The Aftermath_

Two hours of hell is the simplest way to describe our third date at St. Mungo's Charity Ball. My heart aches to see my lovely nymph on the verge of tears, but I have to steel myself for losing her, so I sit in silence. At least I can make this easy for her, so once I see her safely to the door, I decide that it's best to make the first move.

"I'll say good-bye now."

"You mean good night, don't you?"

She's stiffened as if she's angry, but I don't really want to hear a tirade on how I've ruined her life and corrupted her relationship with her family. I do deserve to be castigated for being a fool and letting our relationship grow, but I just can't handle the pain right now.

I don't look at her as I insist, "It's best that I leave."

But before I can make my exit, her vorpal bunny appears at her entry. Wimples has again raided Tonks' drawers of unmentionables. I feel obliged to help her deal with her errant pet, but the chase finally leads us to her bedroom where we trap the mischievous creature under the bedcovers.

The were-rabbit is hopping rather vigorously, creating little lumps on the tunnel of blanket. I turn to look at Nymphadora and suddenly we both break out in laughter at his antics. I feeling of relief and regret runs through me. We work together so well, we have such a facile connection to each other, and yet it still is not enough. Or is it?

As I sober up and look in her eyes, my body mirrors hers as we lean forward so that our lips touch in a kiss. And in that kiss I feel hope--and pain! Wimples' back feet connect sharply with my ribs.

"Ow! He kicked me."

"I'm sure it was accidental." Tonks releases her pet and soon the lepine is gone from sight.

Silence. The kiss would indicate that Tonks isn't ready to send me out the door, but now is the time to be strong and end this romance. I make an attempt to stand up, but I find my resolve faltering as I hear the whisper of her skirt across the bedcovers as she scoots closer to me.

Her gaze is direct and her voice holds command when she says, "Stay."

She still wants me? But I can't let her continue this madness. I remind her, "This isn't, nor has it ever been, a good idea." I cannot prevent my harsh tone as I add, "You heard them. Their insults weren't just directed at me."

We have a brief exchange about how quick people were to denigrate her for being with me. This ranged from Madame Malkin saying Tonks would be an unwelcome customer at her shop to Scrimgeour threatening her career as an Auror. Each time she counters my arguments until I bring up the encounter that cut us the most.

"And your parents? Don't tell me that tirade didn't hurt?"

Tonks averts her gaze and wraps her arms around her knees.. I see her blink away the tears before they fall, but her voice is firm. "They had no right to say those things to you. I never--I never expected them be so horrible."

"Nymphadora, they are your parents. Of course they'd worry about you." It's a half-hearted attempt to defend her parents because I don't want to be the cause of her losing contact with family. It's a painful subject, so I try to distract her by asking, "You weren't expecting them at the ball?"

"Mum never said a word to me about getting tickets." Tonks shakes her head and sighs before a bitter laugh escapes her. "Some surprise, eh?"

She throws a nervous glance my way and her voice is small when she speaks again. "They're good people, Remus, and I was hoping you'd meet them, but not like this. And I never realized that Mum thought you had corrupted Sirius."

"It was easier for her to blame the Werewolf than to lose faith in her beloved cousin." I'm quite familiar with this line of reasoning: The taint of the Dark Creature corrupts all around him. "If I were Fenrir Greyback, she would probably be right."

"But Mum doesn't even know that Sirius is innocent! And I can't tell her without, without--." She stops to rake a hand through her hair and merely ends with, "What a bloody mess!"

"Now they see you as my next target." Target? No, they see Tonks as my victim and I turn my face away as I recall their vile accusation. "And even touching you is a violation."

I hear her groan in disbelief and her voice is now angry. "I can't believe how they accused you of, of--"

"Rape? That was a new one for me," I confirm, but I shudder at the mental image that accusation creates because it is so ugly and violent. It is a stark contrast to the beautiful intimacy I have shared with Nymphadora Tonks. But then I am so much larger, older, dangerous. Could I blame them? I turn my back to her as these questions flit through my mind.

I wasn't surprised by the negative image they had of me, but to have so little faith in Tonks? To think she would let me force myself on her and then be too afraid to defy me? Didn't they know their own daughter?

"Damn it, I'm the one who's always jumping on you!" Tonks literally lunges forward and wraps her arms around me and leans against my back.

A wry smile is on my face, but it falls as I consider my actions. Although Tonks initiates our sexual encounters, I quickly become the aggressor. My hunger for her hasn't diminished; only the full moon dampens my appetite. I never waste an opportunity to indulge in her body and when I'm lost inside of her, there are moments when I'm only driven by a burning passion.

"Yes, but sometimes I just lose control and--," I admit. "And I have worried that I've hurt you."

"You are the gentlest man I've ever known, Remus. You are not some monster; you're the man I love."

She moves close and kisses me tenderly. The touch chases away the shadow of the accusations. Her kiss is passionate, willing; she holds nothing back from me.

Tonks murmurs again, "Stay, Remus."

And with her invitation, I realize tonight is not the night to end things. I am being selfish, but her touch is the balm I need for this wound. I am not the monster, but a man who needs his woman.

"I'll stay," I whisper, but I can't promise beyond that. "Tonight, I'll stay."

"One day at a time," she agrees.

I take her hand and gently kiss her palm before removing the seashell bracelet. I inhale the sweet scent of the Wolf Flower before removing the corsage from her wrist. She brings her arms around my neck and melts into me with a kiss.

- - - - -

The desire flowing from his kiss makes me melt into Remus, but I need to keep my head. I know he was sorely wounded by those horrible things my parents said to him. I need to make him understand that there is no basis for them, that he doesn't abuse me in any way.

I have an idea, but it means that I have to stay in control of things. Do I have the confidence it takes to play seductress? With any man but Remus, I'd feel inadequate and--stupid! But he makes me feel so desirable, like some prize he's been seeking all his life. I still wish I could hear him say those three little words to me, but Remus is a very passionate man when it comes to physically expressing his love.

When I describe Remus as gentle, I don't mean he's some docile sap who barely musters the vigor to find a quick release with me. Ha! Not even the full moon keeps him down for long--did I just say that?

Remus approaches sex the way he approaches his other critical studies: with great attention to detail and a lot of passion driving his study. He calls himself an old man, but I think the energy he conserved during his years of celibacy is fueling our sexual activity. But to prove my point with him tonight will require that he let me control the pace of our lovemaking.

Ah, I feel his hand slipping up to the zipper on my gown. Time to make my decision...

- - - - -

My hand moves automatically to release Tonks from her gown, but she pulls away from me and says, "Wait."

I look at her a bit apprehensively. Has she changed her mind?

She leans in to whisper, "Relax, be passive."

She leans back to look into my eyes. She wants me to give up complete control to her? I nod in understanding.

She's shoves my jacket off of my shoulders and removes my tie as she gently pushes me to recline against the headboard. She kisses my lips as she disrobes me, always halting my movements with a gentle touch. I feel the satin of her gown against my skin and the warmth of her body radiates through the thin material. I watch as she releases my clothing, only moving slightly to facilitate her progress and she kisses my scarred body as it is revealed.

Then she lets her gaze scan across me and smiles in satisfaction. And it's in these moments that I don't feel ugly or inhuman, but very much a man. She clasps my hand for a moment before she rises from the bed and places it over her womb. The charm that prevents conception is whispered like a ritual and its importance is clearly evident after the attitudes we witnessed tonight. I will not be reckless and leave her with child, although the Healers say she will be barren.

She drops a kiss on my fingertips afterwards, running her tongue lightly across them and her actions inflame me, but again, when I lean forward, she puts a gentle hand on my shoulders to stop me.

I lean back against the headboard as my lovely nymph commands me to, "Watch, wait."

My full attention is on her body as she steps out of her gown. There is something very erotic about watching your lover undress. There's nothing brazen about her movements as she strips before me, but the slow maneuvers are sensual nonetheless. I watch the light dance across her skin, I can hear every rustle of fabric as if it's amplified. Even the scent of her body wafts toward me, so I breathe in deeply since I cannot yet touch her.

She's standing beautifully nude in front of me and indulging in a stretch. Damn! I want to reach out and drag her to me, press her beneath me as I kiss her body, but as soon as I lean forward she just shakes her head. I fall back against the headboard and I'm sure I'm pouting.

At this point I almost wish she'd immobilized me for this little game, but what would that prove? No, I think I'm beginning to understand her purpose. It takes more mental discipline to surrender to her gentle directives. It takes an exertion of will power to not violate the limits she sets, but through this she proves that I'm not some lust driven beast who only uses her body to obtain physical release. But I suppose there's a beast in every man because she has to keep encouraging me to be patient.

I soon get my wish to feel her body when she crawls onto the foot of the bed with a wicked smile. The contact of her lips at my ankle makes me groan--Can you imagine what I'm saying as her mouth trails up my limbs? I don't know either since I'm an inarticulate mess.

And any time she feels my muscles tense in preparation to grab her, she pulls away from me, shakes her head with a patient smile--and starts over again! So I endure this sweet torture and try not to pull her head toward me when she finally arrives at my very evident desire. But it is just enough to tease me into further acquiesance as she moves up my torso.

My voice is very hoarse as I accuse, "You are a very evil woman."

She just chuckles because she's finally made it to my neck. "And you've been a very good boy, Professor."

"And what are you trying to prove here, Nymphadora?" I ask as she nuzzles my ear.

"That you won't think I'm stupid for playing seductress," she admits, "and that you're not forcing me to do anything I don't want."

She kisses me deeply then just leans her cheek against mine as a satisfied sigh escapes her. The next thing I know her breasts are brushing against my lips. For a moment I remain still thinking that two can play at this game, but my body refuses to surrender to that ridiculous idea and my mouth opens to suckle her.

I raise my hands to hold her back securely since I'm sitting up against the headboard, but apparently she approves of this because she doesn't pull away. She does shift her torso so that I can attend to her other breast, but soon her body moves up further and I'm on to her game. That taut belly ripples as my tongue tickles her skin and I smile at her response.

Then she moves up further and again I adjust my hands to merely cup her buttocks. I let myself revel in her intoxicating taste, letting her direct my mouth, my hands on her body. Soon I reap my reward as her body arcs and her moans of pleasure send a chill through me.

I feel her body become relaxed as she slides down my torso again and just buries her face in my chest. I caress her back as I try to control my urge to roll over with her and lose myself inside of her.

I voice my yearning with a simple plea. "Tonks, I need--"

"Wait." The quiet word stops me as she nuzzles my neck again. She takes a deep breath before she straddles me as I sit and her intention soon becomes clear.

Oh, this is definitely worth waiting for, I think as she eases our bodies together. She moves once, twice, again and again. In this position I can see her responsive body flooding with desire. Her eyes are closed and her head is tilted back a bit, her body is taut. My hands help her balance before she moves one of my hands to brush her core. She leans forward to let me kiss her deeply before resuming her movements. And so we continue until the release washes over us and I feel her collapse on my body.

"Whew, this is a lot of work," she murmurs with a satisfied chuckle that I echo.

I respond by wrapping my arms and legs tightly around her and just squeezing for a moment to assure myself she is real. "You make every one of my fantasies come true, Nymphadora, just by being you."

She returns the embrace for a moment and the next thing I know, she's asleep. So after using me to fulfill her lascivious plan, I'm left to serve as her mattress. And how I wish this life of loving servitude could last forever.

Her weight on me is no burden and the demonstration is one I take to heart. We are connected by mutual lust, but these acts would not be possible unless we trusted each other's affection. And so I know that in spite of my silence, Nymphadora Tonks knows that I love her.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

_Tonks' Flat_

This is the night. I've spent the past several days dodging Tonks because I know I need to find the resolve to end our romance. I've used the time to develop solid, logical arguments that illustrate the futility of our relationship. Now I'm at her flat to persuade the young witch of the wisdom of parting as friends. Yes, I'm convinced that this is the night.

And as we finish our supper, Tonks is the one to initiate the discussion.

"Remus, if you're going to dump me then do it face-to-face. And don't try to deny you've been avoiding me. I told you I'd abide by your decision after the third date, but I think it's a mistake to be hasty about, about abandoning our relationship."

I set my fork down carefully as she takes a large swallow from her wine glass. Actually, that looks like a good idea, so I, too, toss back a large gulp. Where's the fire whiskey when you need it?

I can do this. Yes, I can. I can let her go--why am I holding her hand now? I keep looking at our clasped hands as I begin my well-rehearsed excuses--reasons! Reasons for breaking up.

"Tonks, I'm too old, too poor, and too dangerous for you to throw your life away on me."

"You're still young enough to fall in love with me, Remus, or have I been nothing but a tumble in bed for you?" She says the last with a sigh as if she can't believe it.

I can't lie to her. "No, I couldn't use you like that. You are everything I've ever wanted."

"Then isn't that all that matters?" I look up to find her eyes wide with plea, but I have to harden my heart.

"Life isn't ruled by our heart's desire, Nymphadora. You'll get tired of having to weigh every purchase. The cost of the Wolfsbane alone is a drain, but I couldn't afford not to take it if we were to be together."

"You don't think I can make that sacrifice?"

"I don't think you should have to make that sacrifice. It's likely I'll never hold a real job, so do you think I like the idea that one day you'd resent all the freedom that being with me has cost you? My debts become yours, my curse might as well be." Ah, I can tell from her eyes she hasn't thought of that. I'm making headway. "And what happens when I can't afford the Wolfsbane? What do you think it would do to me if I hurt you?"

"I'm not some weak woman, Remus." Her hands clench at her side.

"No, we'd never have come this far if you had been," I assure her. The problems aren't with her, it's all me. I lift her hand in mine and let my greatest fear slip out. "I can't tell you how precious our time together has been for me, but I'd rather have you safely as my friend than wake up to find my wife is dead because of something I've done or failed to do."

I see her nod in understanding, but then she blinks twice. "Wait. Wife? You're saying you--you'd marry me?"

I take a breath and patiently explain, "No, I was explaining that as much as I might want to, I can't marry you."

"You want to marry me?" Her voice holds a note of wonder at this idea.

But I'm confused. How did this conversation about breaking up turn into one about marriage? "That's not the point. We can't get married--"

"But you want to!"

Why is the woman smiling at me when I've just presented her with these wonderfully logical arguments against continuing our romance? I just told her--

My thoughts lie broken, but I defy any man to be capable of cognitive processing when passionately attacked by a nymph! I manage to bring a few brain cells online, but all I can say is her name: "Tonks."

She takes that as an invitation to straddle my lap. Oh, she knows just where and how to wriggle to get a rise out of me! This is not...I survive the deep kiss and with the breath I draw, I insist, "Tonks, we need to end this."

"Mm, right, the bed would be much more comfortable." She hops off and tugs my hand.

Much to my chagrin, my body is merrily following her wherever she leads. "Yes--no!" Control! Must regain control! "No, we can't--"

"I understand, marriage is not on the present agenda," she explains patiently as she drags me to her bedroom.

Ah, so I have succeeded in making an impression. Good, so the detour to the bedroom is? "Right, so--"

"I understand. No marriage," assures Tonks as her fingers fly to release the buttons on my shirt..

"Good," I sigh. She understands, no marriage. But as she pushes me back onto the bed, she adds, "Yet."

Yet? Oh, hell, she's kissing me again and I can't think when she's kissing and groping and wiggling and--are those nipples I feel against my skin? "Uh huh, mmm, no!" The secret is to take a deep breath, get the oxygen to the brain cells and proclaim, "No marriage."

"Right, that's what I said," she replies as she slips off my shirt.

"Oh." Right, she does agree and that's what I wanted, right? What's that zipping sound? No matter. Yes, I'm getting exactly what I wanted. It all makes sense now--or as much sense as anything makes when her mouth is greedily attending to my arousal. "Oooh..."

Must regain control. Something important. Yes. I remember, I need to get payback on Tonks for this. Aha, I slip out of her clutches and push her back against the bed. Capture those luscious lips that have been wreaking havoc on my body with my own. Good strategy. Fondle with one hand while undressing her with the other. I've become quite adept at this if I do say so myself.

Do I sound conceited? Well, there are more important things to attend to than my ego--like these creamy mounds before me. And my hands can't be left idle so--Haha!

Who's the incoherent mess now? But I love those low moans, the way her breath catches as my hands stroke her body or my mouth teases her breasts. Her response is predictable, but no less beautiful each time I generate it. My lovely nymph, my woman, my--how I wish I could call her my wife.

The thought sobers me so I stop just to look at her face below me. She touches my cheek and just says, "One day at a time, Remus."

"One day," I echo before I kiss her deeply.

Our hands fall to her belly as is our custom, our ritual, to call the charm. Then our bodies move to a familiar accommodation and fall into the rhythm driven by our mutual desire. Ecstasy results from the natural accord of our bodies, but love brings the satisfaction, the lovely afterglow that blesses our union.

One day at a time, I think. Can anyone really ask for more?

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

_The Break Up  
End of June_

I walk with Tonks as we carry her vorpal bunny to be released in the Forbidden Forest. I have my exit all planned out, even to the point that I asked Albus to create a node so that I could disapparate directly from the Hogwart's grounds. It's rare that I ask anything of the Headmaster, so he readily conceded to my request.

I have a clear opportunity to break things off with my nymph and a duty to protect her. We could endure being ostracized by society, but her connection to me almost cost her life. Peter Pettigrew burned down her flat and the candle shop, sent her landlady to the hospital and mortally injured the were-rabbit that protected her home. And I'm the one who led the violence down her path.

I've lost Sirius Black; I will not lose Nymphadora Tonks. I should have been the one sent beyond the Veil, not her cousin. She doesn't need this old, indigent and dangerous man in her life. A person with my history should have known better than to expect happy endings. I want her to live a happy and full life, so that means I stop fooling myself about this romance.

And now I've been handed the perfect opportunity to dissolve our relationship. I was too selfish before in wanting to maintain at least our friendship. The break has to be clean, nothing left but the memories. I need to put her on the path to a life with a man who could not just love her, but offer her all the things she deserves.

So now I'm carrying Wimples and Nymphadora is at my side. We've been staying at Wolf Rock for the past few days, but I've made certain not to give me intentions away to Tonks.

No, instead we've been spending our time tending to her pet were-rabbit, helping clear things from number twelve, then coming back to the lighthouse to weep about the man who should have been there waiting for us.

And in our sorrow we turn to each other and make love with a desperation born of this loss. Gentle and loving. Furious and passionate. Lazy and languid. Deep and resonating. The emotions sweep over us and drive our bodies to respond. And I commit everything to my senses. Her voice, the moans of pleasure, the joyous laughter. The touch of her hands, the feel of her body with its curves and contours and all its feminine mysteries. Ah, the scent of desire, fulfillment. The vision of perfect skin, the eyes of desire, need, love. Precious memories, all of them, never to be shared with any other woman for although I will desert her, I cannot take back my heart once freely given.

So now our walk has ended and we release Wimples to a new life as we start our own new paths. I look down at our entwined hands and my thumb absently caresses her hand.

Now is the time to end this, so I take a deep breath and begin.

"I won't be going to back to Wolf Rock for a long time, Nymphadora. My mission requires that I leave all of it behind for an indefinite period of time. You can stay at the lighthouse safely for another week. That should give you time to find a new place to live."

She blinks as the information registers. Her voice is cautious as she says, "I, well, Fleur did say there was a vacancy at her boarding house. And I suppose we can still write--"

"I'll be among the Werewolves and it would be too dangerous for you to try to contact me."

"Werewolves? But you've lived among wizards too long. You'll be in jeopardy, too." Anxiety fills her voice, but she immediately offers, "I'll--I'll quit my job and go with you."

"No, no you can't do that." I can't look at her now, but my voice is stern. Merlin, I didn't anticipate her offer to follow me and I have to make her understand. "You're my ticket in, Nymphadora. You see, it won't be difficult to convince them that I've abandoned living among wizards because of a love affair gone bad. I only regret that your name will be tainted with mine."

"It's just an alibi, right? I'll wait for you, Remus, you know I will."

I don't question her loyalty and if this were just an alibi, I know she would wait, but it would be for a pointless future. I still can't bring myself to meet her eyes, so again I shake my head. "Your friendship is precious to me, Nymphadora, but we need to end this for your own sake."

"Remus, don't start talking about--"

"There's nothing to discuss," I admonish. "You promised to abide by my wishes and I ask you to hold to that promise."

I finally turn to look at her and see the stream of tears on her face. They tear at my heart like knives; how dare anyone hurt her like this? The man deserves to suffer and I will make sure that the one who caused her this pain will live his life in regret and loneliness. I can only hope that she will come to despise me for hurting her so deeply. She should embrace a life free of an old, poor, dangerous man.

"But you love me, Remus, don't you?"

And even now I can't admit this to her directly. Isn't it a mercy?

"Sometimes love is not enough and sometimes it's dangerous. Peter targeted you because of me and he turned out to be more powerful than I imagined to have ripped through the wards you had on the candle shop. But you won't be his target now, not if he thinks I'd find pleasure in seeing you hurt. And you won't have to think about whether a proprietor will chase you out of the shop, you won't have to worry about your job or your parents' approval. Don't you see how free you'll be without me?"

"Remus, don't do this."

It is a quiet plea and I know I should just walk away, but my heart directs me not to be so cold and to take one last kiss, so my lips gently touch hers. And now as I leave her, my mind is stained by one more memory: the salty taste of her tears. I know I will encounter them often in my nymphatic dreams.

I take several paces, but with each step I feel the pull to run back and take her in my arms. But this time, my resolve is complete and I will endanger her no more. So my body disapparates, but my heart is left with Nymphadora Tonks.

_The End_

_- - - - - - - - - - _

_Epilogue_

The wind whistles through the nooks and crannies of the Wolf Rock Lighthouse, but the sound is comforting, just another aspect of my home. Home at Wolf Rock. I smile at the thought because there was one year in particular when I thought it was lost to me. But here I am reclining on the bed as I wait for my husband. I look at the sunset out of our window and smile at the memories yet to made in this house.

"I know that smile," says Remus as he enters our bedroom and sits on the bed facing me. "That's one of your dangerous smiles."

"Maybe you're just paranoid, Professor?" I suggest.

He quirks an eyebrow in suspicion. "Now I know you're plotting something; you've got that innocent expression on your face."

"Well, I do have a few plans," I whisper as I lean into his ear. But then I sit back and dispose of the nightgown I'm wearing. "Care to join me?"

The look of desire in his eyes never fails to make me feel special, beautiful. He uses an elegant finger to just tease me by tracing the outline of my curves. "What do I get out of this unnamed venture? Besides the obvious, I mean."

"Well, Professor, the obvious can be used for a variety of purposes," I say as I slip my hands under his shirt to help him doff it. I trace the scars on his torso as I add, "Sex can be used as an expression of lust."

"We've plenty of practice at that," he agrees.

"Or a union of love." I sigh as he dips his head to kiss the top of my breasts.

"I think we've perfected that," he says.

"But we haven't ventured into creating a life," I say.

He stops. He is silent. No, wait. I can hear his breathing getting rapid and when I bring my hand to his chest, I feel his heart beating very fast. He raises his head and looks at me with a clear question in his eyes. "You're not--"

"Not yet, maybe--maybe never," I say and my eyes fall away. I take a deep breath. "Pomfrey still says the odds are against us conceiving, that our precautions have been pointless, but--"

"But you and I both expect differently," says Remus. He puts a hand on my shoulder and rubs gently.

We haven't spoken of our dreams about the children other than to know we both have them. I guess we've never wanted to jinx it by acknowledging them in detail. "I want them to be real, Remus, and not just a dream. At least to know that we've tried."

He remains quiet as if considering whether to pursue this. Then I blink back tears of disappointment as he places his palm above my womb, a gesture that is necessary to call the contraceptive charm. Then I realize I need to listen to what he's saying, because he's not chanting the spell.

"If there is anything in my power to give you, Nymphadora, then I will." He moves his hand to cup my cheek and wipes away the single tear that fell from my eye. "I just don't want you to be disappointed if our family remains nothing more than a fantasy."

"I can be patient, Remus. I waited for you, didn't I?" I lean in to kiss him as I tug off his boxers.

"You always held my heart, Nymphadora, even when we were apart," he says.

But then his mouth roams across my body and any sad memory falls away with the thrill his touch brings. His lips fall upon my belly and as he kisses along the curves, I can imagine what it will feel like when our child is growing within me. But it's not like I'll be suffering if we have to spend extra time engaged in such activity to create the life we want to bring into our lives.

My hand strokes through his hair that now carries more gray than when we first met. The heartaches, the lost lives, have left their mark on both of us, but we have learned to cling to any opportunity to love, a lesson we learned from the Headmaster.

But my thoughts become lost in the pleasure that Remus wrings from my body. We've known no other lover, but that means we have learned each other very well. And as my body begins to throb with release, he turns my body and directs his efforts to a deep and intimate stroke. I feel his hands clenching my hips and the force of his desire fulfills the ache I constantly have for him. And when he finally spills into me, I don't worry about whether we've conceived or not. Nature will take its course if we help it along.

I feel the kiss he drops on my shoulder and the long caress that glides the length of my body. I have to smile as he completes another of our rituals and echoes the words, "I love you."

Soon I'm curled up against his embrace and the old lighthouse is the most magnificent place on earth.

And forty weeks later, our first child leaves the realm of dreams and enters our reality.

_The End...Really_

Author Notes:

I snuck more character development than I originally intended, but that's an author's prerogative. The ending was so sad that I had to again add an epilogue just so I would feel better.

If you are a new reader, then the rest of the story is at Nymph vs Wolf. Warning: it tends to have long chapters (15 of them), full of puns, bad French, Moody swinging, and various allusions to odd fairy tales and pop culture icons. But, it is full of Lupin/Tonks.

If you are a faithful reader, then I need offer no further explanation.

To all, thanks for reading. Folks have been very generous with their reviews, so that's why I say no reviews are necessary. Yes, I always like them, but especially in the next few weeks, out of town plans will prevent my timely response. In any case, thanks for letting me share the story with you. Enjoy your summer!


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